Life in Peaches
by Growing a peach tree
Summary: All this in an orchard... YC!Seoul 2000 fanfic. Lots of bonds.
1. Amara:: Introduction

**A/N: I've been working on this story for a while. I've been drawing and redrawing the family tree forever, just because I couldn't get all the characters straight, and I wanted them perfect. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned this manhwa series, would I be writing fanfics?  
****Just to tell you, this first chapter takes place in a peach grove. Just because I'm obsessed.  
****The main characters are Amara, Mitch, Bunbun, Rafael, and Satan. Their little adventures and tales in a peach grove. Making friends. Falling in love. Growing up.  
****Key:  
*****= 'older brother'  
*****= 'older sister'  
*****= 'are you okay?'**

**So… Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: **

**Life in Peaches. **

**Enjoy!**

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

Amara's window was wide and broad, with a window seat for sitting in and a view of the garden her "sister" had planted years ago. Irakene had spent tons of money on fancy latticework, gazebos, and exotic breeds of roses-and then left her creation to the kudzu. She had fostered Amara into the world in much the same way she had fostered the garden. She'd insisted on homes chooling her because "you never know what kind of trash they're teaching in public schools." She'd insisted on art lessons, French language, and cello, though Amara wasn't interested in any of the above.

The only thing Amara was ever interested in was home. There was nothing Amara loved more than to curl up in her window seat and watch the orchard. She knew what animals burrowed where, and what flowers bloomed when, and what trees produced the best fruit. She listened to the farm's rhythms through the screen like the beat of the heart of someone she loved.

Irakene had installed the fancy latticework in her daughter's life and then driven away with her dog. Near dawn, Ira'd been spotted by Amara's neighbor, Rafeku, driving their 1988 green Jaguar onto the onramp to Route 25 north. According to Rafeku, Irakene wore a scarf in her hair and a Toonsis, a Burberry collar that had seen better days.

According to Rafeku, she'd been smiling.

She'd left a letter on the table.

_Luke,_

_The dog is coming with me. _

_I debated taking him from you, obba*, but you know Monet and I have a special bond. Crazy as it may seem, I took him to a pet psychic in Perry three weeks ago, when you were away selling the camper. As I suspected, he shares my sentiment about your blessed peaches. Monet and I are both tired of the smell, we're tired of the fuzz sticking under our fingernails, and we're tired of playing second fiddle to fruit. _

_Tell Amara I'll call her. I'll be sending for her at the end of summer, when I'm back from New York. I don't want to unsettle her quite yet, but of course it'll have to happen before school starts in the fall. _

_Don't fight me on this, obba. We both know Amara needs a woman's guidance at this, her most delicate and impressionable age. High school can be hell. _

_Yours,_

_Irakene_

The first thing Luke had done when he'd realized his "sister" had left was to go out and buy Amara two papillon pups, the breed Ira had always said she wanted, as an invisible "screw you". At least, that was what she was saying now.

Amara had the cordless up to her ear, pinning herself against the molding of her window as if it was connected to a long curling cord. Conversations with her mom made her feel like that. Trapped.

"He's just rubbing them in my face."

Amara had thought of it another way. She'd thought Luke had given her the dogs to cheer her up. But Irakene was already on to another topic.

"A prison. That's what that place is." Ira was talking about the orchard now. "I started hating it the year we moved in."

"But you moved in the year you found me, unni*," Amara pointed out.

"That's right. I remember the dirt in that place, scrubbing those floors; that was before Ryoko*, you know," Irakene said, referring to the housekeeper. "And then the peach work was endless. You know we only had fourteen hands that year. I thought my fingers were going to fall out from all that work."

"I didn't know it was so hard for you," Amara offered, feeling guilty somehow. As if her being dropped off in front of Luke's house was her fault.

"My friend Yuri said you were my little bad luck charm," Ira went on. "Of course that's not true, honey. It's just the timing was so bad with you and the orchard, and I really just stopped thinking of Luke as an older brother that year. Felt like I was a complete stranger. Poof."

"Wow." That was all Amara could think to say. Her ear had started to itch. Really bad. "Unni, I gotta go."

Ira got quiet on the other end. "I'm sorry, honey. I know it's not fair for me to tell you these things. I just…"

"That's okay. Ryoko's calling me."

"Okay. Bye, sweetie."

"Bye."

"Sweetie?"

Silence.

"I love you."

Amara held the phone between tight fingers. "Love you too."

Amara laid the phone down and leaned her head back against the molding. She sighed, then reached out and stroked her dog Honey Babe behind her butterfly-wing ears. Majestic stuck her nose in for a pet too and licked Amara's fingers. She smiled weakly.

Amara looked at her bookshelf. Most of it was filled with things other than books- three porcelain clown dolls, a collection of fairy figurines, a plush Tinkerbell from Disney Land, a trillion seashells, and a couple of books people had given her.

She stood up, the pups leaping off the window seat and following her heels. She looked at the Tinkerbell, then looked at herself in the mirror. Why was she so chubby? She scowled at herself in the mirror.

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

"What're you doing lazing around in here all day?"

Amara was lying on her bed in a cookiefied stupor watching TV. There was a _fascinating_ show about eighties hair bands.

"Nothing," Amara said, sitting up and wincing at Ryoko in a pathetic attempt at a smile. Ryoko had started working at the house as a cleaning woman some fifteen years ago when she'd come from Mexico to pack peaches, shortly after Amara was born, but now she mostl cooked and had Amara clean instead. If Ira was the neglectful gardener in Amara's life, Ryoko was the kudzu. She was hearty and she had staying power.

"You know we don't have nearly enough help and you're in here alone," Ryoko laughed, thrusting out a bucket. "What do you think mean witch Ryoko'll make you do?" With this, she smiled. "Get down there to the cider house and start cleaning up the press. You'll feel better."

Amara smiled, slid off the bed, and took the bucket obediently from Ryoko's hands. Ryoko gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

On the porch, Amara bumped into Rafeku, who took off his hate and smiled with straight white teeth.

"Hi, Amara."

"Hello, Rafeku."

Rafeku was Luke's only neighbor. He owned a science lab next door with things that always exploded, and nobody knew his last name. He was probably the only person Amara had ever met that she hadn't exactly warmed up to yet. She didn't know if he was for the better or for the worse.

"Can I help you?"

"Oh, just calling on your dad."

Amara knew Luke's patented responses to Rafeku- he was busy. "He's checking over the-"

"Rafeku." Luke stepped onto the porch behind Amara. He smiled warmly at both Amara and Rafeku, patting Amara on the back. "It's nice of you to show up. Ryoko's missed you."

Amara looked at her guardian, then at Rafeku. _Ryoko?_ "Be my guest and come inside."

Rafeku turned back to Amara. "Thanks, 'Mari."

Amara watched them, boggled, as both men disappeared into the darkness of the house. She stared at the closed door for a minute. And then she walked down the porch stairs.

Amara lit out across the clearing and over the hill toward the cider house, trying to shake Rafeku out of her head, the bucket knocking against the side of her ample right thigh. Maybe Luke wanted a friend since Ira had left. Amara sure did.

After a few minutes the movement and the air lifted her mood. She loved the smell of spring. She could predict how and when everything would start blooming. The magnolia by the cider house always unrolled its prehistoric petals later then the ones on top of the hill. Piles and piles of blackberry bushes would flower at the far back of the property near the bridge and ripen around the third week of June, when Amara would trek across the acreage and go pick them for Ryoko to make pie.

Amara could see a few of the newly arrived workers crisscrossing the grounds, and this made her smile and give them little waves. Spring meant the return of all of the workers, who were old friends to Amara and her guardian. She looked forward to seeing them all roll in the way people might look forward to visits from relatives. They were so much family that Amara couldn't imagine life without them.

Every year the orchard produced batches of cider to distribute to farm stands in the area and batches to distribute to wineries that would turn the juice into wine. Amara had been handed the job of supervising the press two years ago as her first major responsibility. Now it was just one of her many duties.

When she got to the cider house, tugging at the leaves of the nearby magnolia as she passed it, she could hear clanking inside, and she slowed down, wondering if a possum had gotten in. She held the bucket back over her shoulder like a weapon, prepared to throw it if she needed to.

She peered around the corner of the door. But there was no possum in sight. Instead a man leaned over the press with his profile to her.

What a view.

He had a perfect, straight-bridged nose, silky long black hair, and skin so pale it looked see-through.

Crap. Amara would have preferred the possum.

Amara's hands immediately flew to her sloppy braids. She hated talking to strangers. Especially guys. Especially good looking guys. Living in an orchard and being home schooled, she had the social prowess of the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

"Um," Amara began, preparing to say hi, and introduce herself, and ask him if he was the new cider guy. But instead she took one step forward and _splat._ Amara went flying, her feet sliding forward and up into the air and her back landing with a thud, followed by her head. A banana splurt of goo came flying out of nowhere into her face. Another soaked its way through her shorts and onto her butt cheeks.

Amara had a straight view of the ceiling for a moment before the guy's face appeared above her, his black eyes staring straight at her, his eyebrows knit in concern, and his mouth pursued in an "ouch" expression. He had beautiful eyes. Damn. He looked brilliant.

Amara remained lying with her eyes on the ceiling, too mortified to stand up and a surge of heat racing through her stomach. "I'm okay. I'm okay." She wanted to wait till the red ran out of her cheeks. But she felt his hands on her should and he was pulling her up, and she felt herself go redder.

Amara looked around her. She was sitting in a pile of old moldy peach sludge.

"_Lo siento_*," he said.

"It's okay. Not my fault." He looked at her quizzically. "I mean, not your fault. Totally my fault," she gushed, trying to climb onto her feet.

"You speak English?"

"Huh? Oh! Oh, oh yes, I do…" She felt herself (if it was possible) go redder. "I'm Amara," she continued, reaching out a hand.

He took her floppy, halfhearted hand in his long, slim one and shook once, his cold palms brushing against hers.

"Scar," he said with a light accent.

"What?"

"My name's Scar."

"Oh!" _Idiot! You're such an idiot, Amara!_ "Oh, nice to meet you!"

He smiled, flashing pearly white teeth. "The pleasure's all mine."

She blushed. "Okay, well, I just brought a bucket down… If you need one. Um, if you need anything else…"

Scar was looking at Amara with a strange smile. She lost her train of thought. Her voice stuck in her throat and she swallowed.

Slowly, almost dreamily, he reached up to her forehead with his long, slender fingers and rubbed it. Even though his fingers were cold, everywhere his finger tips touched felt like it was on fire.

"You have peach goo on your forehead."

And once again, redder.

"Oh, um, thank you! And well…if you need anything, just let me know… I think Luke's busy…"

She couldn't believe her luck. She was talking almost naturally with one of the most beautiful men in existence. She stepped onto the threshold, wanting to quit before she ruined the moment again. "Good bye!"

Amara turned to walk out of the door, then turned back to give Scar a little wave. As she turned, her feet caught each other wrong, and she fell backward into the grass.

…So much for luck.

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

**Oh, where the review button is? It's right down there. It says 'review this story/chapter'. Yeah, no problem. I'll help you find it anytime. **

**REVIEW!**


	2. Mitch:: Introduction

**Hello Everyone ^^ **

**I spent a long time thinking about this chapter. And about the whole story, it basically doesn't have a plot, and it was inspired by Almond Luver's story 'coincidences'. You should go check that one out before you read this. I swear, you'll love it. One word: Kaireku. **

**The main pairings in THIS chapter follows: EricxDawn (Chillbond) with hints of LynnxMitch (stuckbond) and EricxMitch (Desirebond)**

**The story'll basically end up being about a peach grove. Only I know the real end pairings. Just read on. You'll get it. :]**

**Thank you to all my reviewers~ 3**

**Enjoy!**

**growing a peach tree…**

Mitch stuck a spoon into the hole of her lobster claw pastry and dug out a giant dollop of amaretto crème. She stuck the spoon in her mouth and sucked on it, watching to see if her guardian (and also her fuck buddy), Eric, would say something.

Nothing.

Mitch dug two fingers in this time, sticking them between her lips and letting them linger there like the mandibles of an insect- a praying mantis.

He didn't flinch.

Mitch sighed, removed her finger from her lips, and dipped them into the lilac finger bowl by her plate, swirling them around irritably.

Every time Mitch's twin, Dawn, came home for the weekend, which was just about ever other weekend, their guardian spent most of the time gazing at her in awe, like the older by two seconds twin was the second coming of Jesus. Only instead of having risen from a tomb, Dawn had rode a taxi from her school to the large mansion they lived in. And instead of bringing absolution for all the scratch tape 'family's sins, she brought black and white cookies from Henri's bakery in Buckhead, and an answer to Eric's wedding proposal ('Yes'.).

Right now, Mitch's guardian and the messiah were talking about wedding invitations.

"You really wanna have that boring thing where we have to stand up for fifty four hours and have some weird guy talk to us about living shit?"

In reply, Dawn flashed her brilliant university smile, the one she'd been giving her to be husband ever since she'd agreed to marry him. Despite Eric's money, huge antebellum mansion, and fabulous rock lined pool that he owned, nobody except the scratch tape family knew his name.

Scratch tape family. That's what they were. A group of orphans living together, just because they had no one else to depend on. And when one of them grew big, the rest just scrambled in and lived off the big one. And if someone grew _too_ big, they left.

"It's fifty four minutes, dummy! And of course I do. I want it to be official."

"Oh." Eric nodded. "Well, you sure thought a lot about this. And with all those shit loads of school work… I don't know how you do it."

Dawn smiled graciously. "I just don't want some other girl liking you."

Mitch winced.

Dawn leaned her elbows on the table, lounging over her notes like she might be at a picnic on the beach instead of in a stuffy dining room. Occasionally, she reached over and placed her hand on their guardian's wrist, patting it affectionately as she talked.

"And don't think I don't know you're always checking others out," she said, faking a pout. "All those girls with short mini skirts you always whistle at."

Mitch watched Eric. He laughed and slid his hand around her waist, despite the fact that she had just brought up a topic that 91 percent of humanity divorced because of. It was this- Dawn's demeanor while telling the story, that lady perfection- that always managed to take Mitch by surprise. Somehow Mitch always forgot it, and when she witnessed it all over again, it sank into her stomach like light weight. Dawn could lecture (not that she did very often) and absorb it into her perfection, like it was another jewel on her sparkling aura.

Mitch took another bite of her pastry. She'd managed to charm the waiter into bringing her the lobster claw instead of the prix fix appetizer, pulling out her best eyelash-fluttering southern debutante look. She occasionally glanced at Eric to see if he'd say anything. He didn't.

The conversation moved to the wedding that would take place in mid-August, talking about the cake (red velvet, boring), the honeymoon (the West Indies, typical), the signature drinks (the Dawnrita and the Prince Eric Banana Daquiri, no comment) and the wedding song ("From this Moment on," by Shania Twain, vomit.) Chewing loudly, Mitch let her attention drift across the room to Ayari, the newest member of their scratch tape family, who smiled nervously at her with her best must-kiss-up-to-the-family expression. She frowned back, letting her pink puffy lips droop in disdain, then looked at the space just beyond her head.

"Don't slouch, Mitch." Eric had temporarily looked up from his wife. Mitch sighed and straightened up, hooking a finger into one of her white- blonde starlet curls.

"And honey," her sister added jokingly. "Smi~le~"

Mitch smiled huge and fakely and rolled her eyes. It was one of her sister's pet theories that if you smiled, even when you were pissed off or depressed, it made you actually feel happy- which Mitch thought was a load of crap. But she acted like she believed it.

Mitch scanned the room, noticing that the waiter who'd brought the lobster claw was glancing at her every so often. Mitch was loved by waiters. In fact, she was pretty sure she was loved by just everyone except Eric. People courted her friendship like they were paying homage to a queen. When she went out, people's eyes lingered on her. Last summer, when she'd visited Tokyo, she was so loved by all the guys at the clubs, the kept asking if she was Megan Fox.

Mitch was like David Hasselhoff. She was loved in Japan.

"Hey," Dawn said, tapping Mitch's toe under the table and meeting her with a sparkling, perfect gaze of sisterly love. "What're you doing next weekend?"

"Camping at the beach. With Lynn."

Dawn looked at Eric uncomfortably. Mitch just shrugged.

Eric liked to forget that Lynn ever existed because he was one of the guys who Eric had actually liked and wanted to stay with. But Lynn left, and he turned out to be successful too.

He'd been Mitch's new project, or crush, since November of last year. He was the hottest guy she had ever met, without a doubt.

And he adored her.

When they'd met a few days ago, which was about six years since he had left, Mitch hadn't recognized him. She had just gaped at his masculine beauty, his body, and his sculpture like face. When he'd introduced himself, her knee-jerk reaction was to make out with him. Her second knee-jerk reaction was to ask where his house was. Her third knee-jerk reaction was to just stand and watch him. Her third being what she did, her second being the thing she did next, and her first…well, the thing she hoped to do.

And Lynn was a great guy. An escape. And maybe the one place in her life where she felt she was truly herself. She wished he had come; she always felt more solid with everyone when he was around.

"Actually, Mitch, me and Dawn were talking…"

Mitch felt her stomach clench instinctively.

"We think it'd be nice for you to stay with my friend Scar for a while, help him out with the orchard a little, and spend some time with Amara."

"Amara?" Mitch never saw the teen brunette except at weddings and funerals.

"Sweetie, you know she's lonely with no one to be with," Dawn whispered gleefully.

"But I already promised…" Mitch frowned deeply, her perfect blond eyebrows descending rapidly, and her cocoa smooth skin quivering. Though she hated camping, Mitch imagined she'd end up (somehow) in Lynn's arms. "You guys can't."

"Scar's a busy man, and he came and asked himself."

Mitch rolled her eyes. The man was clearly hot, but inconsiderate. "Amara makes me uncomfortable. C'mon. You can't."

Mitch felt a familiar helpless lump in her throat. This was the way Dawn worked. Requests were never requests; they were just orders dressed up. Naked orders would be too tacky for her twin.

"You just don't want me to spend time with Lynn." Mitch crossed her arms tightly, cerulean eyes piercing into her sister's identical ones.

Dawn sighed, a derisive grin spreading itself on her face. "Really, honey, don't you think that's a little dramatic?"

"You guys are such snobs!" Mitch said, tossing what was left of her lobster claw onto her plate. A few people at the surrounding tables stared.

Dawn stared around, wide eyed and scandalized. "Mitch, you're being a brat."

"I'll leave, then." Mitch shot out of her chair and stalked out of the and into the back garden of the Inn. She flopped onto one of the wrought-iron chairs, crossed her legs, and whipped out her cell. She was going to get Lynn immediately.

He'd rev up his motorcycle and be here in five minutes flat. That was the kind of guy he was. At times like this, she wanted him more then ever.

…

**Review? I promise, it's fun. **


	3. Satan, Rafael, & Bunbun :: Introduction

**Okay, I've written a few chapters, but they're all pretty short, so I'm combining them. That's okay with you, right? :3 This pairings in this chapter follow: SatanxRaguel (no clue what it's called…) and RafaelxD&A (struggle bond). Oh yeah, and when the paragraph separations look like- :::::::, it means 'different POV', and when they're like- ()-()-()-()-()-()-() it means 'same POV, different scene'. K? Thank you to all my reviewers, and I hope you enjoy~**

:::::::

Every spring since she had turned thirteen had started the same way for Satan. She started feeling restless at the very same time as the crocuses began busting out of their buds every year. She'd start to want to bust out of her skin too, into a skin that lived, say, in New York, or Paris, or Buenos Aires, any place that wasn't the boring town she was in now. Outside the historic downtown district- which was basically unlived in and which barely any tourists came to- the town was mostly a strip of motels, fast-food joints, and traffic lights.

From then on, each spring had started with

The restlessness

B. The ache in her chest for the thing she didn't know was missing

C. The guy with the hand up her shirt.

At fifteen, there was also the addition of the other hand, down the pants- usually cords, sometimes army surplus, all three dollars or less at Village Thrift. The boys she hadn't bargained for; they had just sort of come. Because Satan was as girl as a girl could be. Orange tinted crimson eyed and smooth skinned with beauty marks here and there on her cheeks, with brown-blond wavy hair and high apple breasts. She was more juicy than fine, more sexy than delicately beautiful. In a word, Satan Kurada was yummy. A few more words that had been used to describe her were _brilliant, bold_, and _rotten_.

Her favorite spot for C. was the edge of a Peach Orchard, just two miles out of the center of town, but what felt like a million miles from anything resembling the slut house she was raised in. Most of the towns felt like a collision of old southern big-porched homes and a giant strip mall. The orchard, with its endless acreage and overgrown greenery, felt like the Garden of Eden.

Satan, who wasn't much into nature, didn't know why she liked it. In lots of ways it was a mess. The white fence that ran along the property line was chipped and rotting. An old tractor had been abandoned by the train tracks and was grown over with weeds. The farm itself was obscured by layers of overgrowth along this edge so thick that even now, when there were no leaves, Satan could see only tiny glimpses of the peach trees themselves and the white farmhouse through the bushes.

The cold metal of the tracks dug into her butt as she took a sip of warm Mello Yello. She kicked off her sticky old Dr. Scholl's sandals from Village Thrift, letting her bare soles bask in the warmest night they'd had since fall. Across the grass behind them, Raguel's car was choking out staticky Coldplay, a band Raguel said was brilliant, though Satan claimed all their songs sounded exactly the same.

Satan watched lazily as Raguel, whose last name she didn't remember, ran his fingers lightly up and down the back of her calves like they were made of gold. His eyes trailed up and down her legs.

"What do you wanna do?" She asked, pushing her toes into the grass. She mentally urged Raguel to say something original. _Impress me_, she thought. Already she was wishing she'd come alone. Raguel was oblivious to their surroundings, which was depressing.

The truth was, there was _nothing_ she wanted to do. She wanted to float out of her body, out of Bridgewater, up to the moon. Coming to the orchard always made her restless. Energized with nowhere to put it. Stuffed up.

When her sister had used to take her here on picnics, before the onslaught of boyfriends paraded into their lives, Pamela had said, "It makes me feel young, baby." And maybe that was it. Sneaking onto the orchard grounds made Satan feel the way she figured a girl her age was supposed to feel- awake. Though Raguel was making a valiant effort at bringing that down a notch.

He watched her with an unreadable emotion in his hazel eyes. He was ridiculously cute, she had to admit. But a lot of guys were. Somewhere along the line, that had stopped being exciting. She watched the moon above them, which was three-quarters full and surrounded by a white haze. It made her think about how she couldn't believe how big the universe was, but how small it was for her. Maybe she'd be sitting here when she was eighty, making out with somebody with just gums.

"I'm bored." It came out matter-of-factly.

Raguel pulled back and grinned at her, showing nearly fluorescent teeth. "Now where have I heard that before…" He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and held one to his lips, lighting it. He looked irritated.

Satan wasn't surprised. It was typical. Boys came in one flavor. The flavor that couldn't stand it when you didn't let them play with your toys. Natural he was annoyed.

"Shitty lighter."

…Maybe not.

She looked up at him, interested, as if a guy lighting a cigarette was the most fascinating thing in the world. Hm. So maybe he hadn't come for his sexual desires. When he looked up from his lighter questioningly, she just shrugged and continued her moon watch.

"Anyway, your tongue's all slimy," she said, bouncing up onto her feet. Don't you swallow, ever?"

Raguel raised an eyebrow. "Woah, you're rough, Satin."

"Satan. I hate it when people try to give me nicknames."

"Yeah, but Satan's a devil's name."

"And it's got nothing to do with you."

He shook her head at her the way boys sometimes did, like he'd touched a hot plate and had to put it down. "Well, if you're bored, whaddya wanna do?" He made a face and threw his lighter onto the ground. "Blasted thing. Shoulda listened to Remiel when he told me to stop smoking."

Satan jumped form one side of the track to the other, then back, then gazed into the trees that, she knew, led to the real heart of the orchard and up to the house. She knew this because she'd seen the house down the long dirt driveway to the Orchard, although she'd never explored beyond this area around the tracks.

"Who cares? I just want to go somewhere."

Raguel smiled a tight smile, like he was getting impatient but hiding it. "This is somewhere, Satan."

She didn't care. "Then this is a bloody boring somewhere."

His smile faltered for a bit. "You wanted to come here."

"Yeah. Now I want to go somewhere else."

The fury in his eyes was so great, she thought he was going to throw a tantrum. Most guys did at this point.

But he didn't.

_So,_ Satan thought, _What will you suggest? _She was willing to bet good money for either a bar, or his house, or a hotel. What else could you get from a guy?

"Wanna stay in this peach grove over the summer?"

Definitely not what she was use to hearing.

"Excuse me?" She whipped around and glared at Raguel.

He, in turn, smiled –this time a real one, Satan noted- and continued to talk. "I have a friend there, Rafael, who needs help over the summer. You up for it?"

Satan's pulse had picked up slightly, like it always did, at the thought of doing something with a high risk-to-reward ratio.

She felt Raguel's eyes traveling over her body behind her. Satan took it as a matter of course. She knew what she was; she never looked in the mirror and wondered whether she was pretty or not, sexy or not. Raguel looked, not because he wanted to touch the mystery, but because he was a guy, and he couldn't help it.

Her mind drifted. Raguel, where had she met him? The band punk with spiky, short black hair and red streaks. Not the hottest of the bunch, but at least one of the hunks. What had caught her attention, though, was his near-topaz hazel eyes. Now this?

She looked at the orchard, back at Raguel and his lighter, back at the orchard again, and then finally at the chump of soil in front of her.

"Raguel?"

The guy looked up, finally giving up on his pack of smoke.

"I want to do it."

Raguel dropped the cigarette pack completely and smiled. She was up for it. "Great."

"And Raguel?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm still bored."

"…Not great."

:::::::

**Some weird shop far away…**

_Hell. I don't have time to put up with this._

And so were D&A's thoughts as he stared at the youth in front of him.

He wasn't in the best of moods to begin with, and he certainly wasn't looking for a prostitute.

He didn't get one. Instead, he got a newcomer- Rafael.

Rafael. The creature he would regret meeting for the next few months.

Oh, how he hated staring at her.

Not that it was a bad view.

Even if the teenage girl had a few flaws here and there, she had her own style in a round-ish, charismatic way. And even if she was still in her early teens, her chest wasn't entirely flat.

She was a _treasure_ compared to the make up coated whorey sluts he had to put up with. Her eyes, which were big, but more to the slitty side then the wide, had caught his in seconds. She was drawing the wrong attention from all the Inn's criminals- seductive in an un-womanly way.

Not a bad view _at all_.

No, he wasn't complaining about her looks, nor was she one of the tons of millions of sluts that tried to get him to bed everyday.

That wasn't what was bugging him.

If it wasn't any of the above, it had to be, most definitely, the gun she had pointed at him.

_I have absolutely no time for this._

"Who are you?" D&A twisted his face into an unforgiving snarl, glaring daggers at the girl.

"Oh, me?" The smug smile on her face made D&A want to choke her. "I'm, say, a hunter."

"Hunter?"

Rafael had turned disgustingly casual about the whole thing. "Guys who shoot animals for a living? And you're my prey."

"That's foul."

She rolled her dark brown eyes and looked from D&A to the gun. "Yeah? Well, one wrong move and I shoot. And trust me, this hurts even if I miss your head or heart."

"No shit, Sherlock. What do you want from me?"

"You," she replied simply.

"So eager to get to know me."

Unashamed, Rafael placed one small hand on the tabletop and leaned closer. "That, I am." Her confidence was –almost- admirable. "I find you impossibly fascinating."

Maybe having some fun with her would be a good idea. Long as she didn't start shooting him. "And you don't even know me."

Rafael blinked. It was an odd motion. "Yeah. Sure."

It sounded like a lie. But the black haired man didn't let it ruin the moment. It was clear what she was going to ask for.

"I have a proposition." Still leaning on an arm, Rafael raised the gun a bit higher as if directly pointing it to his head.

"Let's hear it." His dark black eyes remained cool and still, resting on her and betraying no emotion.

Rafael seemed blank for a second, but mischief was fast to return to her expression. "I want you. In private."

Usually, especially to D&A, that would have sounded seductive and easy.

With a gun pointed at his head, though, he had completely different thoughts.

Still, as he watched the young girl twirling a strand of light brown hair with her small fingers, his thief greed- his wish to steal the treasure in front of him- took action. He was a thief, after all. An amateur, but still a pretty well known thief. It was his way of thinking. That, and the fact that he was a guy, sitting with the first clever girl he'd talked to. He let his animal instincts take over.

"So how 'bout it? You willing to- MMPH!"

D&A was the type who made out fast and harsh- he didn't have time for chit chat once he got started. He slammed her against him so their mouths could work together. Rafael, who turned out to be a fast learner, made an excellent tongue-duelist.

After a few moments, though, she stepped backward. "Not exactly what I meant by 'what I want from you'…"

There was no stopping his heat now. With a small, lazy smirk at the girl, he whisked her off the table as if she was a princess from a fairytale and carried her bridal-style, away from the gushy sluts swooning with envy.

Outside, he dropped the heaving girl to the floor. "Daaamn," the girl breathed, one hand on the side of her head and the other stubbornly holding a gun. "No no no…"

The thief was quick to join her, smoothing the girl backward onto the floor and climbing on top of her.

"Hold it," Rafael said, though her body was acting otherwise. The thief started sucking the soft spot on her neck, and the girl's words weakened. "Hold…" her breathing increased, despite herself. "... Oh."

He was winning. His hands slipped up Rafael's shirt.

"Ok." Rafael's eyes shot open. "Ok, _this_ wasn't the plan." She pressed her hands up on the pale thief's shoulders.

D&A, annoyed that the teen was talking while he was trying to concentrate on his work, didn't even attempt to stop. He shoved her arms back to the ground. "Thought you wanted to get to know me," he whispered, urging the girl to continue.

But Rafael just pointed the gun directly at his head. "I said, _hold on_."

That fucked up stupid gun. Ruining the one time he had actually wanted sex.

Needless to say, fury erupted in the Thief's brain.

"What the fuck are you stopping me for?" he demanded, pissed.

Rafael closed her eyes and grumbled something under her breath like, "Why does shit always happen to me?" Then she opened one lazy eye and smiled a crooked smile at the thief. "Sorry, this might hurt…"

Then the thief was kicked, _hard_, in the crotch.

"BIT…c…" was all he made out before bright stars of dizziness and pain clouded his vision.

And then it was black.

:::::::::::

Rafael stared at the unconscious boy in front of her, then at her leg.

_I kick that hard?_

With a small smile, she patted her leg. Kick in the crotch, kids. It always works. Especially if you have a fake gun and you're working as a bounty hunter for a friend. She sighed as she remembered Luke.

_Luke._

Stupid man and his puppy eyes, making her take care of his…what was it, cousin? Brother? Hell, this guy was so pretty, he could pass for his _sister_.

…Then again, he sure knew how to pleasure a girl. Rafael fondled her fake gun and snickered. Lucky she was good at making replicas. This looked like a real one, sounded like a real one.

Only, it didn't shoot like a real one.

Hehe.

With little effort, she had heaved the man up onto her shoulders. He was tall and lithe, and surprisingly light.

"Sorry, gorgeous," she whispered into his ears as she called a taxi. "You and your sensitive dick."

The taxi driver stared at her, at the body, then back at her. "Er… him?"

She gave a little nod of acknowledgement and slid into the car. "He's drunk."

"Where to ma'am?"

"To the peach orchard, as usual," she replied, whipping out her black cell.

:::::::::::::

BunBun Z. hated, _HATED,_ it when someone woke her up in the middle of the night. Especially when she was having a good dream. Not that she remembered all of them, but the feeling of being happy remained when she woke up. Once her black eyes closed, and she started dreaming, it was her time. No one should be bothering that.

Only, her stupid phone and its stupid ignorant ring tone rang about some stupid person's stupid message. And the situation was SO STUPID, she wanted to scream. Did she mention it was stupid? Why did she even wake up? Why not just sleep through it?

Groaning, she sat up and reached for her phone, long black hair spilling all over her shoulder. She slid her white phone open with her surprisingly small hands, blinking and trying to adjust to the screen light.

_**Text Message from: My boyfriend**_

She stared, dumbfounded, then looked at the number.

…Shit, when had Rafael changed her name to 'my boyfriend'? The _NERVE._

_**Message: Hey baby.**_

…

Insert scream here.

_HEY BABY?_ She had texted Bunbun at two am in the morning to say HEY BABY? Bunbun was deprived from her precious sleep for _HEY BABY?_

For a minute the girl wanted to choke Rafael. Or even herself.

:::::::::::::

Rafael traced her finger on the window, snickering. Bunbun would probably be pissed as hell at her.

_**Text Message from: Baby**_

Rafael took a deep breath, then gave a sympathetic smile to herself in the mirror. "You're gonna get squashed by your own baby, poor thing." Then she opened the flap.

_**Message: Is something wrong? Something BETTER be wrong**_

Hehe.

:::::::::::::

After five minutes of waiting, Bunbun felt something click inside of her. It was official.

She'd punch Rafael in the gut the next time she saw her at the orchard.

_**Text Message from: My boyfriend.**_

She glared sharks and daggers at her contact list, vowing to change the name as soon as she read the message…

_**Message: Actually, nothing's wrong.**_

…

On second thought, she'd just shoot her.

::::::::::::

By the time the taxi slowed into the Orchard's driveway, Rafael had an impressive conversation in her inbox. It was somehow satisfying, knowing that Bunbun was most likely a zombie from not sleeping for an hour. Why why _why_ was torture so adorably fun? Was it because Rafael was a bad person?

Rafael snorted to herself at the thought. Since when was she a good person?

Still amused, she heaved the half-conscious, half-asleep thief she'd lugged around in the car ride and waved the taxi driver goodbye. She could totally tell the poor driver was exhausted, worn out, and freaked. Nice combo. Licking her lips, she and the awake half of her new companion trudged to Luke's front door.

Luke was quick to answer the door, as always. Hell, the guy barely even slept. Rafael use to think he was a vampire. Had to be. How else could someone not sleep and last for thirty four years, looking as young as he did?

"Ah, you've brought the wolf!" There was a twinkle in Luke's eyes, as if telling a private joke.

"Piece of cake," Rafael said, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm the big bad pig, remember?"

Luke stared questioningly at the teen, who sighed I return.

"It's a joke. Y'know, Irony and crap. Gah, never mind. Can you get your _sister_ off my shoulders?"

"Oh, of course! Excuse me, my mind went on vacation for a moment!" Luke easily pried his pain-stricken family away from the teen girl's shoulders, not noticing the how she insulted the thief by calling him a girl. Rafael sighed again. Yeah, Luke never got the jokers. Bad humor. Like that guy from Dumb or Dumber. But if Luke was dumb, was Rafael dumber?

"Tea or Coffee?"

Rafael stared. "Water."

"Ah." One of the things that fascinated Rafael about Luke (there were many) was that whenever he poured water, he glared at the cup. Literally GLARED with his dark black eyes. And his almond colored arms shook with intensity.

She'd never seen him do that to her. She'd never seen him angry at a living creature, for that matter. So why…at a cup?

He had to be psycho.

"So," Luke smiled, handing her the cup. (Which she checked to see if there were any cracks) "How was it? Was he hard to bring? Did he put up a fight?"

The girl grinned. "Well… The guy knows how to please people."

Luke's black eyes looked up, confused. "Please? Did he make you cookies?"

Rafael chose to simply glare at the man, hoping he would catch her drift.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, he didn't.

"That doesn't seem like him…Not that much, at least. Well, he could've changed. Is it the fad to make cookies for guests these days? I should ask Ryoko to buy some cookie dough… Have you ever tried cookie dough? It's the most fascinating thing. It has a nice taste too. Infact… Oh, this little creature here and I've tried making cookies before. That was ages ago, when D&A actually knew how to be social. I'm so happy I could use our peach grove as an excuse to bring him back. I've been meaning to talk to him forever, but he's always so caught up in his own world... Well, I was once too. But you know what they say…"

That was Luke. Just like an old lady. He could go on and on forever about food, fashion, news, family…anything at all. On and on and on and on and _ON_ until Rafael grew tired of the gossip and told him- politely- to shut up ("Okay, you can shut up now"). His black eyes clouded with an expression that reminded Rafael suspiciously of her grandma, and the muscles on his arms seemed unreal. Half the time, Luke looked like he belonged in an old woman's body.

"Ahem," Rafael said quickly. "I think I'll go visit Bunbun."

Luke stopped, the cloudy, grandma look disappearing. "This late?"

Rafael took a dramatic swig from her cup as if she was drinking beer. "My Baby awaits."

The older man smiled. "I bore you with my horrible gossip, don't I? Go on, I'm sure…" he trailed off, his eyes clouding again.

Rafael gulped in air, just as Luke opened his mouth once again.

"BYE!"

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

Rafael crept into Bunbun's room, making sure to keep silent. She let her eyes wander over the classy and neat furniture. Gosh, Bunbun was such a neat freak. Rafael's room was a ruin from Hurricane Katrina. She walked over to the bed, ready for the silhouette of a slim figure to be glaring angry hell at her.

The moment she got there, though, she realized that Bunbun was much more angry then Rafael thought she was.

The bed was empty.

Which meant she was in the room… somewhere.

Gulping and wide eyed, Rafael looked around and took a step back.

_Creaaaak._

Shit.

She waited for something to pounce on her, but nothing did.

Whew.

She took another step back, this time making sure she didn't make a sound.

_Creeaaaakkkk._

Fail.

A honey sweet voice seemed to be right behind her. "Hi _darling_~"

And that was when Rafael realized she was royally screwed.

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

**The review button loves you. Come on, touch it!**


	4. Satan & Mitch: Arrival

**Dan dan DANNN! Okay, now that we're done with the introductions (Those five are the main characters, btw), here we go with the first real chapter! :O So, the first POV is Satan's. Second is Mitch's. :] I have the next chapter halfway written, so y'know...it'll be up soon! Once again, thank you to all my reviewers, you guys ROCK! XD Enjoy~**

:::::::

"Pam, I don't want to do this."

Pamela Remen looked in the rearview mirror of her maroon 1990 Pontiac and smacked her Wet 'n' wild Passionflower-lipsticked lips together. "Honey, you did this to yourself. You said you would. And you know I'll miss you."

Satan rolled her eyes at the hypocrisy of it all. If someone was always "doing it to herself," it was her sister.

"And anyway, making choices is a good-" Pamela added before the car door opened and the face of a charismatic teenager made its way in.

"G'day," it nodded briskly to Pamela before finding its way into Satan's view. "Where's your bags? I'm like a bell boy. Or girl. Name's Rafael. C'mon, we don't have forever."

Satan stared as the girl smoothly introduced herself and started picking up Satan's green army-issue bag onto her shoulder and slam the trunk as if she owned the car.

"What was that?" Pamela asked, moving a wisp of her red hair away with one fingernail. All of her fingernails were long and had tiny roses painted on them above tiny little thorns. Pamela dressed to accentuate her femininity- low-cut tank tops from Wal-Mart, short skirts to show off her admittedly perfect legs, long nails that her boyfriends seemed to go for.

"You look like a floozy," Satan muttered. The girl…Rafael, was it? Laughed, then muffled herself by pulling out and sucking on a lollipop.

Pamela glared and frowned. "Watch your mouth."

But Satan only shrugged. Her sister was the least intimidating person she knew. Because deep down, Satan knew her sister loved her half to death.

Pamela glanced at the mirror again, unsure now. "I happen to think I look very nice. He works at Pep boys. His name's Richard. He's taking me out to dinner. Not bad, huh, baby?"

"Are you going to Burger King or Arby's?" Another muffled scoff.

Pamela lifted one plucked eyebrow. "I might just never come to pick you up."

By now, it seemed that Rafael was tired of trying to muffle her laughter, and she actually came to join the conversation.

"Tragedy," she replied darkly to Satan's older sister. "We wouldn't have enough corpse bags to hold your daughter." (With this Pamela's eyes widened with horror, and Rafael's smirk grew larger.) "How about I just wrap her up in a few ole' paper bags? I'll throw some newspapers in for ya."

This time, it was Satan's turn to laugh. Her sister's wide eyed face expression was so comical. Rafael's smirk transformed impressively into a seemingly 'innocent' grin. "Just joking...? What's your name?"

Pamela smiled. "Pamela."

She nodded. "Just joking, Pamela. She'll be safe."

"I trust she will," Pamela said, her eyes darting from Rafael to Satan. They both backed away, and Satan gave her a small wave. Pamela blew a kiss to her.

"I love you, sissy. See you in two weeks."

"No if I die of boredom first," Satan said, accompanied by muffled laughter.

The Pontiac pulled away, it wheels crunching in the white dirt of the long drive out of the orchard. Satan sent up a silent prayer that Richard wouldn't be that interested in her mother. She didn't know if she could take another of her mom's boyfriends. Then she looked around.

Damn. The Rafael girl just disappeared.

Satan stuck her hands in her cords, surveying the orchard. The house stood directly behind her. In front, stretching back toward the road and to either side as far as the eye could see, were the peach trees, their tops low and dipped in the middle like cereal bowls, rows of white sandy dirty striping straight paths between them. The branches were dotted in tiny spots of fluorescent green where the leaves were sprouting. To her right were two other houses, about twenty-five yards apart, strange looking because they were both sort of sunk into the ground and more run down than the main house. To her left was a barn, also worn and sunken, it's red paint closer to an ambitious brown.

It was different than at night. Satan felt like the one thing that did not belong in the picture.

Then she saw him.

Just emerging from one of the rows a long times away was a figure. Satan watched it closely, making out a man, well, a guy, in a black T-shirt and jeans. He was fascinating, that much was definite, and he had style- her jeans were hipster blue and his T-shirt looked like silk. Satan was very into style.

And she could tell just by the way he walked that he had to be good looking. Guys who knew it had a certain walk, that didn't show off- their looks could do it for them, though this one had also twisted in his own little flavor so that he looked like he was prowling, like a predator.

_Very _Sexy.

But she could barely make out anything else. She made a mental note about him and then turned her head away, forgetting about him completely.

"Uhm…hello?" she heard, and turned. There was that young brunette girl…what was her name, Sara? And Rafael, twisting Satan's luggage in her hand as if it was a feather, then grinning at her. "I'm Amara," the light brown haired girl said, cuddling one of her dogs against her chest. The other stood by her heels.

Sara. Amara. Whatever. "This is Honey Babe." Amara held one dog forward, then nodded down to the other. "And this is Majestic. Welcome to the farm."

Satan stared coldly at the dogs, then looked up at Amara- the picture of innocence with huge brown eyes and softly wavy hair. "What kind of name is Amara?"

Amara's cheeks flushed. "Uh… uhm…"

Rafael stepped up, smirking lazily at Satan. "A good name. Now come on, lazies. Chit chat and gossip later. I'm sure you'll be the best of friends, but _later_. After I can put your bags down and run away to my little paradise."

"Uh-huh." Satan looked the shyer teen up and down. Amara was a bit chubby, but not in a way that made her seem hideous. She looked like a teddy bear, sweet and adorable. Then she looked at Rafael, who seemed so much more powerful compared to the brunette. "Lead the way."

Satan walked behind Amara, watching the way she walked, self-consciously, like each step was carefully thought out. Yuck.

They made their way across the grass up to the smaller of the two houses. Rafael, leading, veered toward the one with the sign at the top of the stairs that said Camp A.

"This is the women's dorm," Amara said softly, opening the door and leading Satan into a tiny yellow-walled hallway bordered with a kitchen and then a common room. The whole place smelled delicious and looked like something from an old movie.

"Everyone just had lunch," Rafael said, hovering in the archway into the common room, which was filled with three old La-Z-Boys, a table with three legs, a worn plaid couch, and two dark haired ladies who occupied the seats.

"This is Moribana and Bunbun," Amara said, smiling shyly at the women and then back at Satan. "They're all very nice." Rafael went into a fit of fake coughs.

'Moribana', the seemingly older of the two, was the kind of person who looked completely lovable. With a bright, knowledgeable smile and a large brown eyes that twinkled with amusement as they looked over her new company in a friendly way. Across the left side of her face was a red tattoo that stopped at her eye and continued whenever she blinked.

'Bunbun', on the other hand, was neither friendly nor vicious. She had big eyes, with lots of white brimming the intense black pupils, making her seem very wide-eyed and intent, and long, flowing back hair that was pulled into a neat, low pony tail and hung over her left shoulder. Her expression was blank, not stupidly, but more cautiously. She was noticeably thin and tall compared to Moribana, who was shorter then most and just normal in body weight.

She had been so caught up in examining the two women, she didn't notice Rafael sneaking up on her.

"This is My-banana and baby," she whispered in a tone of voice that failed miserably at sounding like Amara. Then, using her normal voice, "Like one of 'em? They both aren't lesbian, much as I'd loved them to be." She pointed to Bunbun. "She's pretty sharp. Be ware, you could get pricked, Aurora."

Satan shot an amused and annoyed look at Rafael, then looked back to Bunbun and Moribana. The older girl smiled, the tattoo wrinkling a bit. "Nice to have you here…? What's your name?"

Satan opened her mouth to speak, but Rafael beat her to it. "That'd be honey-hair," she said coolly, pulling on Satan's brown-blond hair. "Like that name, 'honey'? I think it has a nice tone."

Satan yanked her hair away from Rafael's grasp and glared at her with flaming scarlet eyes. "I hate nicknames," she hissed.

Rafael matched the red-eyed girl's glare with an equally fierce, if not fiercer one. Satan took a step back. She'd never seen Rafael mad at her, and she didn't intend to. Especially if Rafael's friendly eyes started burning her to ashes. For a moment Satan was swallowed up in fear, staring into the other girl's eyes. Then Rafael's eyes softened again, and she grinned.

"She likes it," she said, turning to the others with her innocent grin. "It's official. Honeyyy!"

Moribana smiled, Amara just seemed tense, and Bunbun rolled her eyes. Rafael picked a cushiony spot next to Bunbun, wrapped her arm around the mysterious girl's shoulder, and shooed Amara away. "My job is over," she said, leaning to place a fake kiss on Bunbun's cheek. In return, Bunbun slapped Rafael's hand and kicked her ankle, hardly paying attention to the girl's whimpers.

Hm. Satan would have to do some research on that Bunbun girl.

For now, she followed Amara up the stairs. At the door, Amara stood back to let Satan walk into her first bedroom at the farm. The room was bare, with an old beat-up desk and bed with a blue mattress beside a window that looked out at a row of trees. By the door was a list of rules: No smoking, no loud music, curfew 10 p.m. Satan immediately knelt on the bed and tried to open the windows. It was jammed shut.

"This is a fire hazard," she said, flashing her red slitted eyes at Amara, who hovered by the doorway looking like a deep trapped in headlights. Amara held her cheek out to be licked by one of the dogs in her arms. Her pink worm of a tongue darted along her skin twice. "I have rights. I want a window that opens. I could sue you guys."

"Um. But I don't know…" Amara trailed off, looking nervous. "The longer you work here, the more privileges you get… but there's none with a window opening one, I think…"

Satan rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She tossed her bag onto the bed and started unpacking. She'd figure out how to un jam the window.

"If you need anything…"

Satan could think of many things she needed. She needed to be getting stoned outside the Ryman auditorium. She needed a real summer, one of the few joys of life. Now, thanks to her horrible judgment and Amara and her dogs, she had neither.

"Don't you think that's hypocritical?"

Amara shifted uncomfortably. "…Um, excuse me?"

"Well, you're asking me what I need, but I already told you I need a window that opens, and you can't do that. And what I really need is to go on break like every other normal person in the world, and I can't do that either. And I have you to thank for that. You and your little Honey Butt." Satan nodded at the one dog. "And you, Ambrosia Salad." Satan nodded at the other.

"It's Honey Babe and Majestic. They're all named after peaches…"

"I don't know if that's how you spend all your time, sitting around waiting to bust people's balls because you don't have anything else to do."

"Bust balls…but we weren't…?"

"Yeah, bust balls. You and your fascist dogs."

Amara's bottom lip quivered. "But I didn't…I…" Amara blinked a few times, unsurely. Then, to Satan's amazement, she simply pivoted on her heel and took off down the stairs.

Satan came to the doorway and watched her disappear. Maybe she had hit a sore spot and Amara really was afraid that the dogs were fascists. She imagined them giving each other little Nazi salutes with their paws.

The cool, joking voice of Rafael snapped her out of her puppy-fantasy. "Hey, What's wrong, 'Mara?"

Amara, though, whispered something quietly to Rafael and then rushed out the door, the dogs trailing at her heels.

Shit, it sounded like she was crying…

A few seconds later, Rafael appeared at the bottom of the staircase, chuckling up to Satan. "Honey! 'Mara's afraid of bees!" She watched as Bunbun came too, at Rafael's side, and threw Satan an annoyed glance.

"Look," Bunbun said, her black eyes glinting with anger. "Amara's sensitive. If you chose to come and live here, start acting like a guest. Don't throw fits at someone else because of something you're not happy about. It's not Amara's fault." Then she left, dragging a hyper Rafael with her.

Satan slouched down against the wall behind her, dumbfounded.

No one had ever talked to her like that. Not like Bunbun just did.

"No one…" Her eyes drifted back to the stairs, not seeing.

Downstairs, she heard a muffled laughter.

:::::::

Up on the porch, several people- mostly young men- were milling around- sitting on the porch rockers and standing on the stairs, their skin warm looking. Mitch parked her Beemer as close to the house as possible and primly made her way through the crowd. One of the men caught her eye. He was different, much more exotic then the rest and was beautiful in a spiky-silver-hair, completely-buff-and-muscular kind of way. Not her type, but one to be kept an eye on. He looked hostile and cold and _charismatic_.

His dark blue- almost purple- eyes locked with hers for a moment, but his face remained monotone. As if nothing had happened, Mitch passed by him.

Inside, the house smelled like Cookies and sweet tea- the signature scent of Luke's. Luke himself carried the smell with him wherever he went, much like Dawn carried the smell of Givenchy Very Irresistible, claming that every woman should have a scent others could remember her by.

Mitch let out a long, nervous sigh. She hadn't been to the house in over a year. Looking around now, she could see the signs of Irakene's sudden disappearance. Bare spaces where pieces of furniture had been. The dining room table covered in papers, the chairs pulled out and in disarray. Ira had always been in Luke's office, on the phone with some client, solving some issue for the workers, or handling the bills. It felt quiet without her high voice lilting through the rooms. Mitch wished she had Lynn with her.

Ryoko came out of the kitchen, wiping her tough, tan hands on a dishcloth and pulling the rubber band out of her sand colored hair. "Hiya, honey," she said, smiling.

"Hi, Ryoko." Mitch kissed her on her warm, dewy cheek. Ryoko didn't smell like cookies. She always smelled like nail polish, though not very strong.

"You look more and more like a movie star every day. How many boyfriends do you have?"

Mitch smiled. "None. But I've got a crush."

Ryoko look awestruck, her white eyes piercing into Mitch's blue ones, then shook her head. "I hope he's sweet."

"He is."

Ryoko smiled too, showing her white teeth. "Well, it's good to have you, sweetie. We need every hand we can get this year. I'm about to drive the van into town to take the workers shopping." She nodded to the coffee skinned boy Mitch had seen in front of the house. "This is Fekan, who's a new member. He appeared suddenly yesterday. He's helping unload stuff." The first thing she realized that she hadn't realized before was that he had a huge scar across his eye, much like Moribana's tattoo. Mitch gave him a tight, polite smile. In return, he gave her a look. His gaze was so fiery, so burning, it felt like a _glare_. Nonetheless, Mitch held her lighter blue eyes at him evenly, until Ryoko interrupted there glare-fight. "Go on up and see our Amara. She's hiding from me."

Mitch plodded her way up the droopy, lopsided stairs, miserable. She felt Fekan's eyes leaving her as soon as Ryoko changed the subject to Amara. Perhaps he had a crush on her?

In the upstairs hall, the same dresser held the same knick-knacks that had been there since Mitch could remember. The same piece of cinnamon candy had been sitting there for at least sixteen years. Mitch wrinkled her nose. She liked things new and shiny, not old and dusty.

Amara was sitting in her giant window, flipping through a Cosmo and nibbling chocolate off a Goo Goo Cluster. Aside from the chocolate, she reminded Mitch of a Renoir she'd seen in Paris last summer- soft and full and pretty. Two papillons lay sleeping on each other's necks at her feet.

"Amara?"

Amara jolted and tucked the magazine behind her, her cheeks turning pink. Mitch scanned the room to the TV, which was playing some Nelly video.

"What are you doing, Amara?"

"Nothing. Um, hiding from Ryoko."

"She knows your up here."

"She wants me to go into town with the workers and take them shopping."

"Well, why don't you?"

"…One of them hates me."

Mitch gaped. How could anyone hate Amara? She was so warm and sweet and full of love. Then she remembered Fekan.

"There's some cutie downstairs, looks like a worker. Maybe you should go."

Amara blushed harder, clasping her hands like an old lady. Amara was like an old lady than anyone Mitch knew, except maybe Luke. That man was so…

"What are you reading?"

"Um, nothing."

"Well," Mitch cleared her throat, remembering her posture and throwing her shoulders back. "Where should I put my suitcase?" she asked brightly.

"Luke wants you to sleep in here with me. He said we should pull out the trundle bed."

Mitch sank deeply into one hip. "Are you serious?"

Amara nodded solemnly.

"No way. I need my privacy."

"I told him. I do too. I said we're not ten anymore…but…um, he didn't listen. I'm sorry…"

Mitch surveyed the room and wondered. IT hadn't changed much since they were ten. The same four-post bed, the same stuffed animals on the shelves.

"Well, it's just not happening," Mitch said, stiffening in the way she did when she was resolved. "I'm going to talk to Luke. I think you should come with me."

Amara let out a breath and stood up.

Mitch frowned. Amara made her uncomfortable for a couple of different reasons. One was that she didn't chitchat. She would let long silences drift into a conversation and make no attempt to get out of them or to help Mitch when she tried to fill up the empty spaces. The second reason was something a little filmier and harder to grasp. There wasn't any artifice to Amara- her big, brown eyes were always earnest and truthful. Being around her made Mitch feel like she herself was a little bit artificial and fake.

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

Two minutes later, they were both standing in the entry to Luke's office, which was a tragedy- with piles of paper leaning like towers and bills spread out like butter on bread.

"Um, Luke?"

Luke looked up from his desk and gave Mitch a heartbreaking smile, because she was Mitch and people treated her like velvet, and smiled at her when there was no reason to be smiling.

Amara had brushed passed her and began trying to organize some of the papers, looking self-conscious. The whole scene, with Amara included, made Mitch's question freeze in her throat. It seemed so immature, what she was going to ask of him, compared to this- Amara and Luke and that smile. Still, Mitch pretended she didn't notice. Luke was still looking at her expectantly. "Luke, do you mind if I sleep at the dorms?"

It was easier then she expected. Luke didn't even consider it; he looked back down at his desk. "Sure, that's fine."

It had taken all a few seconds for Mitch to take it all in and realize something that for all her thoughtful slowness, Amara didn't recognize at all. But she wasn't about to say it.

Outside, she heard rustling and went to stare.

The first thing she saw was Lynn. Her mouth widened into a bright smile in spite of herself. He was here, just as he'd promised. Lynn. Lynn Lynn Lynn… She left the depressing scene behind her and rushed to the door, wondering how she should surprise him.

Then she froze and stared at the window, blank.

She could hear her world ripping right down the middle.

Feeling for the couch, she steadied herself and started making her way silently towards the back door. Luke didn't notice.

Amara did. She looked outside, and as everyone did, _gaped_ at Lynn. But then she looked next to him and she saw it, the 'second thing' that made Mitch look so sick.

The second thing she saw was the girl he was with.

**I'M SO HYPPPERRRR RIGHT NOWWWW! REVIEW! MY HYPER MOUTH COMANDS YOU TO REVIEW!**


	5. Bunbun & Rafael :: That scene with you

**How come Bunbun and Rafael are always together… Probably because they're best friends in this story. This has what Almond Luver's been waiting for FOREVER: Bunbun x Lynn. I just love writing that kissy kinda stuff. Anyways, thank you to all of my reviewers~ Enjoy~!**

:::::::

"Hey, baby, check this out! Oober tight skin jeans, how 'bout it?"

Bunbun rolled her eyes. "Those aren't 'oober tight skin jeans', Rafael, those are stockings."

Rafael smirked, the face expression Bunbun figured she liked using the most. Just a lazy tip of the mouth. "Coulda fooled me." Then she threw her 'oober tight skin jeans' into the trash and slid next to Bunbun. "Home run," she exclaimed, sitting up and grinning at the long haired girl.

Bunbun just sighed and shook her head. Sometimes it was hard to keep up with Rafael's bouncy energy and constant boredom. It wasn't that she was mad or anything, it was just that…it was tiring. Rafael just didn't seem human.

"So, what's up?" Rafael licked her lips and slid closer to Bunbun, just close enough so their hips didn't touch. It use to creep her out, but sometime along their friendship, Bunbun just knew Rafael wasn't really sexual, just totally bratty. It was her method of annoying people. "You seemed down ever since we came out from the…what is that…uh, what's the name…"

"Farm," Bunbun finished, smiling. "I'm not down. I'm just sort of worried about Amara. All that pressure with…what's her name, Mitch? Her friend coming and Amara doesn't even know her… And then there's that other girl, Satan. I just feel like…I don't know, Amara's really scared of all of them."

Rafael, who dropped onto the ground and rolled somewhere in the middle of her speech, propped her head up with her elbows and grinned, her face looking mischievous. "You're babying her."

Bunbun twitched. "No, I'm not."

Rafael's grin grew wider. "Yeah, you are." And before Bunbun could start arguing, she continued on. "You've been acting like her mommy ever since Ira went away. I know you had that special tie with Ira, and now that she's away you're depressed. And you're thinking Amara's weaker then you, and she's spent more time with Ira then you have, so you feel bad for her, thus, protective." She rolled on her back, then looked up at Bunbun with a satisfied smirk. "Am I right?"

This was also another thing Bunbun didn't like about Rafael. She knew everything…but she didn't know it completely. Just some part of it, that made her say yes, she knew. But deep down, Bunbun knew there was another reason, and she just couldn't see what. And Rafael always cut off what she was going to say. Sometimes, she just felt trapped, like she wanted to say something but knew if she did, it'd ruin the mood, more _Rafael_'s mood, and she didn't want that.

She flinched as she was brought back to earth by Rafael's little fingers tracing her knees. "Come on, Baby," she said through a grin. "Mommy knows you better then anyone else."

Bunbun sighed, weakly. "You're not my mom, Rafael, and stop calling me baby." Then she gave the shorter girl a small, practiced smile. "I want to get some time to think alone, Kay? Leave when you want to." She stood up gracefully, then rushed out the door, leaving a blinking Rafael alone to her thoughts.

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

Breathing in the scent of flowers and peaches, Bunbun calmed herself. Why she was so confused, she herself didn't know. She twiddled her finger around nervously, tracing the strands of hair that fell loose from her ponytail. She just needed some time alone. Some time to try and clear herself…or even to just take a nap. Some time away from Rafael and her ignorant knowledge. She closed her eyes and tried to think about something else. Something private. Something that didn't involve the other girl…

…When some mindless idiot almost tripped on her.

Luckily, whoever -almost-did was athletic, and they jumped over her instead. She looked up, shocked, as her eyes locked with one of the most strikingly attractive creatures she'd ever seen.

He stood blocking the sunlight, looking down at her with smug pools of violet, spiky blond hair shining like gold under the sun, smooth, flawless coffee skin bulking with man-muscles.

And he was smirking.

Oh god, _he was smirking_.

Even if it was one of Rafael's favorite face expressions, it looked almost unfamiliar on his perfectly sculptured face. Much more serious, much more defiant, much more dramatic… _much more beautiful_. It wasn't a teen's arrogant smirk. It was a _real one_, probably the first real one Bunbun had ever seen.

And it was so charming. So deviously charming in a way Bunbun had never seen before. He looked like a god- that face was too faultless to be one of a humans.

He was _so thrillingly beautiful_.

But.

In Bunbun's world…

…he was still an idiot.

Bunbun tore her eyes from the guy and turned, prepared to run, but the man simply grabbed her wrist.

"Hold on," he said charismatically. "Where are you off to so fast?"

_Damn._

The guy had a beautiful voice.

It strangely reminded her of dark chocolate, sweet on the outside but bitter, deep bitter once you got a better taste. And everything about him seemed so… _dangerous._

But again, only for a moment. Bunbun was the type who admitted he was… physically appealing, but didn't connect it with her thoughts of the person themselves. And though Bunbun was enchanted by this new prince charming that had appeared in front of her, that didn't make him any less idiotic then he naturally was. Period.

"Where am I off to?" Bunbun repeated, "Away from you." She tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

"Persistent I see," the man muttered. "What are you doing here?"

"Why do you care? My business is my _own_, thank you very much_._ Now if you'll let me pass-"

"In a minute. I'm not done."

Bunbun gave him a suspicious glance. "Done what?"

"Staring at you."

Bunbun crossed gave up on trying to detach his arm. "And why is that?"

"Well," he thought about it, and then said satisfied, "You're very pretty."

"Oh…" she suppressed a blush, "W-Well, thank-" Covering her face she took a deep breath. "What the fuck. Pretty? I'm serious, you've GOT to be desperate or something."

His smirk only grew wider, fully exposing his sharp white teeth. She couldn't decide whether he reminded her of a cat or a wolf. "Never knew you were so straight forward." Then, without warning, slammed her against a wall, pressing himself flush against her.

She could feel herself blushing.

Likewise, panic took over.

"What the HELL was that for, bastard? Let go of me! Hey- hey, I don't even know your name! No, don't touch- what do you think you're doing? Don't come closer I'll-"

And so her ranting continued, until warm, sweet lips shushed her.

Literally SWEET. His tongue tasted like strawberry and chocolate.

Bunbun usually loved sweet things. In this case, it revolted her to no end. Pressing her small palms against the stranger's chest, she kicked the guy wherever she could, with all her might. A satisfyingly solid object crumbled as her leg reached it, and she smiled, proud of herself and the shortness of the kiss.

The problem was that when the guy fell, he fell right on her. The little space they had in between them had completely gone, replaced by skin and flesh and muscle. She gasped, then looked up to see the man smirking at her.

Fucking bastard had been planning it all along.

"Oh, come now," he said in his sickeningly bitter sweet voice. "Don't look so revolted. You'll hurt my feelings."

For looks, he could pass for a _god_.

For mental state, though, he was a homeless piece of shit.

"Hurt your feelings?" Her voice was ragged and breathless. "You're crazy!"

"Actually, I'm Lynn." Sweet blackness dripped from his words.

She blinked. Lynn? Wasn't that…a girl's name? "Yeah? Well, Lynn, can you get OFF me?"

His amethyst eyes looked disappointed. "So you didn't want that fuck."

Before Bunbun could reply, he backed away, crossing his arms and leaning against the dorm's outside wall with ease. She opened her mouth, but his sweet voice spoke before she could say anything.

"I was trying to make out with you. I'm seventeen. And I'm…" he looked off at the horizon for a while, his expression serious. "…your knight." And then the smirk returned, watching Bunbun (while she took her sweet time to think about everything that had happened) with half-lidded eyes.

What _could _she say?

She was furious, confused, chaotic, unable to register what the man in front of her had just stolen.

But the sick, confused feeling was gone. Which was weird, because this guy… acted like Rafael. Should've reminded her of Rafael, but did not. And she had no clue why. They both acted like sexually deprived maniacs (Though Bunbun knew Rafael was just joking and this Lynn person totally would've raped her), they both talked as if they owned the world (though Rafael made it so that everyone could tell it was fake, and this guy…well, he really seemed like he owned it), they both were conceited (though Rafael was cute and the strangers was just…conceited), and they both smirked (though they looked considerably different when they did). Okay, maybe they weren't completely the same, but the fact that she found peace in someone that even vaguely resembled her worry was just… weird.

She felt his eyes wander around her, and she snapped back from her thoughts and turned to glare at him. "Shouldn't you be done seeing if I'm pretty or not by now?" –with this, she made a face- "Which I'm not, blind guy."

But he was completely unfazed. "Not at all. I'm checking you out. It takes time."

Bunbun twitched. Where did he get the coolness? Most people repeated their catch phrases to themselves in the mirror. But with him…she couldn't imagine it. It seemed impossible. He said the words as if he owned them, so naturally.

Player.

He glanced at his clock. "Actually, I was wondering if you could take me to Luke."

…

What?

Bunbun stared, dumbfounded.

So he'd been trying to find someone to bring him to Luke?

_THAT WAS IT?_

And he had to bug the hell out of her?

He observed her fuming figure carelessly, then smirked, once again. "No, that wasn't the only reason."

Her brown eyes blazed. "Then WHAT?"

"You're hot."

...So, how was she suppose to respond to that?

"Lame excuse. Think of a better one next time."

Fangs showed through his smirk again. "This means you'll be meeting me again 'next time'?"

"…Assuming there IS a next time," Bunbun quickly added. God, why did this guy always find _that_ kind of thing? His brain was probably made up of 'words of seduction'. She rapidly started walking toward Luke's house.

"I'll be looking forward to it," he whispered into her ear, snaking a hand around her waist. She jumped. When had he gotten so close? She didn't even hear him catching up to her. Then, recovering from shock, she pushed him off and kicked him as hard as she possibly could on the shin.

Oh, the satisfaction she felt when he fake-collapsed onto the grass. It was fake, but it was acted well enough to make her feel happy.

That was, until he slipped his leg under Bunbun's feet and brought her down on the ground beside him.

This guy was intent on making her life miserable.

Lynn rolled and pinned the other down, holding both Bunbun's wrists above her head. "So pretty," he purred in Bunbun's ear, pausing to lick the delicate skin on the girl's neck. "And I get to have you all to myself."

Bunbun felt herself shaking. Was it fear? Or pleasure? Or fear of being pleasure? "I don't…I don't know…you…," the girl panted, "you stupid… crazy…"

He watched, _studied_ her curiously with his lavender eyes before standing up, pulling _her_ up, and then (once again) smirking. "You look fed up, so no more jokes for today."

Oh, so _now_ she looked fed up? How about five minutes ago, when she wanted to rip his head off and kill-

"That's it, right? His little office."

"Yeah," Bunbun growled through her teeth. "**Right. There**."

He took one look at her face expression, then threw his head back and barked out a laugh, as if he thought she was absolutely hopeless and ridiculous. She glared at him.

"_Sorry_, I missed the joke."

"Go take a look at yourself in the mirror. You look like an orangutan."

"Yeah, yeah su- wait, a WHAT?"

"What do you mean 'a What'?"

Luke's curious black eyes stared at the both of them through the window glass. Thank god. Bunbun, who didn't even know him that well, wanted to go up and hug him. Another person. She was safe.

"Oh, Lynn!" Luke's black eyes widened considerably. "Finally here! I've been waiting for… like, ever."

Bunbun stared at Luke. "You… you know this guy?"

Luke nodded. "Yes, thanks for bringing him here. Want some chocolate chip cookies?"

"…No, thanks…" That stupid kiss had drained out her appetite. She felt her stomach get queasy and her face began to flame. She instinctively fingered her neck and the place he had licked. God, it felt all warm now.

"Hn? You look sick…" Once again, Lynn and his sneaking-up technique. She'd have to paste one eye on the back of her head to keep up with him.

"Lynn, are you going to come in or not?"

"I'm going, I'm _going,_ you impatient woman," Lynn called out, irritated. Then he turned back to Bunbun, leaning close to her ear.

"You still haven't told me your name."

"I have no need-"

Once again, his tan fingers silenced her. "You're going to be my bed slave."

How dare he! She roughly smacked the finger away from her lips, realizing with horror that her face was growing hot. "No I won't-"

"Oh, no? Then you're going to tell me your name."

"Look, we're not meeting-"

"Ever again, right. If you're so sure, make the promise. Next time I meet you, you're going to give me a kiss."

"No I'm not!"

"Aren't you? Which would you rather do, out of the three?"

"Well I'm sure as hell not sleeping with you. What are you, a stalker? Why do you need to know my-"

"Lip service then?"

"Look, I said-"

"Don't forget me."

His fingers made its way back to her lips, tracing and teasing it with his finger tips. "Not that you could," he whispered huskily into her ear, taking her hand away from her neck. "One lick and you're into me already?"

Bunbun flushed deeply. "Listen, I really have to go…now." Glaring, she freed herself from his arms and ran as fast as she could. Luckily, the man didn't follow her.

She got to the front of her dorm in a matter of seconds. There were paint peelings on the red door.

Bunbun just stared. The first thought she had was that he didn't make any sound as he walked, even when he climbed onto Luke's impossibly creaky office. The second thought she had was that that Lynn had called her Princess. The third thought she had was that he had just stolen her first kiss. The fourth thought she had was that Lynn was a FUCKING BASTARD.

The fifth thought…or feeling, she got was that she enjoyed her heartbeat pumping loud songs into her ears. And that she sort of looked forward to seeing him.

But he was still an idiot.

:::::::

From where he stood in Luke's office, Lynn glanced at the girl feeling her neck outside Dorm A's porch.

"Silly Princess…Don't forget that I know where you live now…"

And he was still confident that he would get that kiss.

:::::::

**Meanwhile…**

Rafael stared blankly after Bunbun. She needed some 'private time', neh?

Rafael grinned. Her baby was growing up.

But she sort of missed Bunbun's constant facepalms, comments, and warnings. Then again, who said watching their kid grow up was going to be easy? Rafael was proud, and that beat her other emotions. She'd just have to deal with her boredom.

But how?

Stretching her legs and holding Bunbun's spotless white desk she bought two years ago for support, she heaved herself up.

Now, what to do…

The first thing that came to her mind was to paint her nails. She hadn't since…gosh, when was it, a month ago? She inspected her messy nails sheepishly. Even if she didn't rip her nails off with her teeth like about four trillion people she knew, her nails were always uneven and broken. And the natural nail stuff…Rafael was just too lazy to deal with it. She'd just make it her tradition, waiting until her black Glenora nail polish chipped off completely.

After long minutes of crossing things out on her mental to-do list, she realized there was unimportant thing she was just dying to do.

And what better time then now, to celebrate her baby's growth and her newly born boredom? Rafael nodded. Sounded reasonable enough. Then she stood up and started walking over to them men's dorm.

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

The guy was asleep.

_The guy was asleep? _

She had walked all the way from Bunbun's room to his place, and this D&A guy was _ASLEEP?_

Oh no, so NOT happening. He was going to pay his respect to her or pay HIMSELF.

Rafael slowly tiptoed over to the sleeping thief, frowning. His short black hair was matted over, his eyelids securely shielding his pupils, and his tight cherry lips poised into a scowl. For someone who was suppose to be a thief, this guy slept like a stone. Rafael nudged the corpse like body with her arm. He wouldn't wake up even when she stabbed her sharp sneaker heels into his toes. Hell, he probably wouldn't wake up even if someone fired a canon at him. Some thief.

"Oi," Rafael said, growing impatient. "Wake up, old man. I'm bored. C'mon, get up!"

No response.

"hey! You horrible excuse of a thief! I said: Get up!"

"…Who are you?"

Rafael jumped, then stared at the thief's mouth. No, that wasn't his voice. His voice was annoying and sadistic and screaming amateur. The voice she heard just now was completely different, deep and cold and cruel. But just to be safe, she waved her hands in front of his face like a fan.

Nothing.

He was still asleep. So had spoken? Was it someone from the other room? Could it have been a coincidence? Or was it…

Relaxing a bit, Rafael looked up at the ceiling. "Dear ghost of this…weirdo," Rafael said. "Please shut up. I'm trying to wake your baby up right now by punching his face with my very holy fists." With this she punched her fist in the air, balling her hands. "See? It just screams holy, doesn't it?"

"Surely," the ghost replied, irritated. "You have something better to do then that…"

Rafael's grin made its way to a smirk. "Yeah, and you probably have something better to do then stick around and baby this guy. And why are you talking to me? Ghosts aren't suppose to talk to humans."

"I'm not a ghost."

Rafael froze. Breath tickled her ear.

_Hot_ breath tickled her ear.

_Vampire. _

She whipped around, holding up a small 'x' with her fingers, and glared. "Look, Vampire, you're gonna hav-"

The 'Vampire-Ghost' behind her was actually a handsome guy with a silver mane, tan skin, and dark blue eyes that practically emitted charismatic manliness. On the outside, he looked fairly decent.

But no. Rafael knew there was more to someone then 'the outside'. Deep, deep down, this man was wrong. He wasn't hurt or broken or a exposed to darkness. He was the darkness itself. His eyes gave it away, eyes that had seen- no- _spoke_ death.

Rafael would have gladly wished for a vampire if she had known what was talking to her.

But the man just shoved her away with a one swift arm motion, taking her spot next to the sleeping figure of D&A, examining his face for a moment before taking a deep breath and kicking the thief in the stomach.

Rafael made out wide, pain-stricken eyes before she heard the scream.

"!"

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

"…So I thought he was a ghost, until he sneaked up behind me, then I thought he was a vampire…but then I looked at him and figured out he was a human. And then he kicked you in the stomach. I think he was trying to wake you up…"

D&A grimaced. "I didn't mean 'What happened' by what happened between you and Fekin. I meant 'what happened' as in what happened when you first met me!"

'Fekin', or the unfeeling silver maned guy, had left after delivering the kick without a second glance. He was cold, that much was obvious. Who he was, why he was here, why he had been so mean to D&A…Well, those were questions she wanted answers to.

"Answer me, senile fool!"

Rafael smirked at him. "The name's Rafael, thief. You should know that. You kissed me."

For a moment, the black haired man almost seemed to blush, before the redness in his cheeks turned to ones of obvious fury. Rafael looked at his stomach and scooted closer to him, an apologetic expression on her normally-cocky face.

"Very sorry. I think you got the wrong message, but I said I hade a proposition for you, not that I was a prostitute."

The Thief couldn't believe this. His intuition was never wrong. "Meeting me in private?"

"Luke wanted me to explain that he needed your help- peacefully. But y'know, I'm not that peaceful… So yeah, I just had that urge to kick you where it hurts most. You were gonna rape me if I didn't stop you."

"Luke." And with that simple name, the Thief realized what had happened. And all he had wanted was a good fuck. He let rage pour through his veins. "_Luke_. Where the hell is he now?"

Rafael looked over at him, the apologetic look in her eyes disappearing completely. Oh, so this guy and Luke had a bad relationship? That only made things more interesting. "He's in his lil cottage over there, making cookies."

"Don't speak blasphemy."

Rafael blinked. What part of that didn't make sense? Luke was making cookies, it was a grandma-Luke thing.

Unless…

The Luke he knew was different?

She shrugged. That wasn't her concern. "Doubt me all you want, but it's true. See? I sort of smell like it too."

The thief looked into her eyes, and Rafael evenly stared back. After a while, the man's eyes softened and he leaned closer to her.

"Don't smell anything."

"That's coz you're smelling my NECK, dummy. Like, on my fingers. They smell like chocolate cookies coz I ate some." She held out a chipped finger expectantly, as if she expected the thief to catch the scent by just staring at them.

Instead, the thief grabbed her finger and licked it, his tongue moving over her chipped nail and bare skin. He pulled her hand closer, deciding her finger didn't satisfy his hunger.

But Rafael jumped to her feet. For a second, her eyes were mesmerized by the shaft of orange light lying between the curtains, a sign of the sunset outside. "Sorry, don't mean to cut this lovely meeting short, but I gotta go check on my baby. I'll come back sometime."

_Baby_? This girl was married? "Wait a fucking second," the Thief ordered. But as he turned to chase after the youth, he found Rafael's finger pressed against his mouth.

Rafael looked up at him, and there was a look in her eye that was far from cocky. "I really would have slept with you…just so you know."

And just when he was about to reply, then she left.

D&A _hated_ riddles...

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

Rafael skipped out the doorway, happy with herself. D&A was _so_ hers. Humming a small tune to herself, she rushed to her room.

Completely oblivious to the love-stricken black eyes that watched her retreat to girl's dorms sadly.

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

**REVIEW! It's fun, I promise. For me. And for you! But mostly for me XD**


	6. Satan :: disappearing hotties

**Kyle's back with an update~ 3**

**Oh my god, I am SO SORRY about this short chapter. I swear, I was working on '6:00' (which I'll update today!) and I completely forgot about this story… So yeah, I had to type all this up in a day…My mind is in a total fun house right now…**

**Anywho, enjoy~**

**:::::::**

Satan woke up to the sound of birds chirping.

She pulled her pillow over her head and then pulled it away for a moment. "Shut up," she yelled and pulled it back.

The bird went on chirping, its shrill song drilling right through the glass and the fabric of the pillow. He was doing it on purpose. She knew he was

Satan shot up to a sitting position and looked outside. It was just after dawn. There he was, a blue jay, right next to her window, looking at her insolently from a drooping branch. A chickadee two branches above appeared to be ignoring him.

"See, nobody likes your stupid song." Satan slapped her pillow and staggered out into the hallway, pulling on a thin navy blue sweatshirt. She'd heard people moving about a while ago and had stayed in bed, praying no one would wake her up. Blessedly, they hadn't. One of the women, Moribana, she thought, rushed by her with a baseball cap. Then slid to a halt, backed up, and gathered Satan into the crook of her arm. "You're late."

Satan shrugged. "I'll catch up." Whether she heard or not, Moribana hurried on down the hall.

Satan returned to her room, smell tested the armpits of her Craig Nicholls T-shirt, and changed into that and a pair of shorts. A few minutes later she straggled into the bright spring sunshine. The air felt warm and cool in patches, like it hadn't yet evened out, and it was full of the sounds of different critters buzzing, chirping, legs rubbing together in the trees. Satan could see that a group of people had gathered up at the house.

Pulling a Doral out of her pocket, she walked around behind the dorm to smoke, promising herself that if the blue jay was there, they'd have a good talk and she'd threaten him with cigarette burns. Instead she saw a guy.

Curious, Satan walked a little closer, admiring his muscles. She knew you always had to be careful about checking out guys from behind. Then they'd turn around and be ugly and you'd feel all grossed out.

Satan walked closer so that he'd hear her and turn around. He did. It was the guy from the lawn the day before.

From far away he was hot. From up close…god, he was way beyond that.

The man's attractiveness was of a more dangerous type. His treasure-golden hair shot up uncontrollably, falling over his eyes.

And oh Hades, were his eyes seductive.

They were a strange, deep amethyst that pierced anyone's gaze and no one could deny they were beautiful. And, his deeply tanned skin contrasted so well to his hair and eyes that it was scandalous.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?"

His voice was smooth and rich…like woven gold.

Satan nodded. "I guess so." She thrust out her breasts slightly, because he didn't appear to have seen them. "What are you doing here?"

The guy looked at her for a moment, as if she were Dennis the Menace, still not taking in the breasts. "Waiting for someone."

Satan shrugged. "No one here worth waiting for."

The guy smirked at her, as if he was on some joke she wasn't. "No one including you?"

Satan frowned. She wasn't use to guys treating her like a normal person. And she wasn't use to the way he looked at her, as if she was a small, immature child. "Well, my sister abandoned me here, so I certainly wasn't worth waiting for, for her."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're mad about that?"

Satan frowned again. "Well, I'm not happy about it, but oh well."

The guy nodded and turned back to the tree. Satan frowned and intentionally took forever to finish her cigarette. Just when she was about finished, he spoke up.

"Then how about this? I'll wait for you here, today."

She squinted. "Why?"

"Just to show you someone here's worth waiting for."

Satan was speechless. Why? He hadn't said anything seductive, but his eyes glimmered in a strange, sweet, sexual way that made Satan's heart pound. The offer was so… charming. He was charming. She'd never met anyone like him.

But she shrugged, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to wait for her, and held out a hand, just to show him she wasn't intimidated. "I'm Satan."

He took her small hand in his and pressed it to his lips, making Satan shudder. Satan, who had made out with over four billion guys. Shuddering from a soft brush of this guy's lips.

"Lynn," he said. "See you later, Honey."

She didn't bother to correct him. She needed to get out of there, her head felt dizzy and her heart was pounding too much. She walked, putting a little more swing in her hips in case Lynn was watching.

Up on the porch, Luke was speaking hyperly, with Amara on one side and a long, tan haired woman on the other.

"We want to thin ten percent of the trees. That's one in ten peaches we want to knock off. We have about a hundred acres and about eighty five trees per acre, so that's a lot of peaches to knock down! Those of you who don't know how, learn from the ones that do.

"Amara oversees the dorms, so if you have any problems with the living space or if you need something like charcoal for the grill, cooking supplies, or toilet paper, let her know. She'll be by to check on everyone every day."

Amara fidgeted where she stood beside Luke. Satan grinned. It was hard to imagine Amara overseeing much of anything.

"You won't get cell reception. There is one phone, over in the supply barn. It's suppose to take quarters, but I made replicas of quarters with strings on them, so just use and reuse them, kay? Now, this-" Luke gestured toward the white eyed, tan haired woman standing next to him- "Is Ryoko. She's in charge when I'm not around. And…"

By now, Satan was bored. She tuned him out and looked around her at all the faces. How did these people do it? All spring and summer, working in the sun. Her eye caught a movement back toward the dorm and then the sight of a pretty blond girl. Mitch emerged from Camp A, her blond ringlets a-frazzle, dark circles under her eyes. She wore silky pajama pants and a pair of slippers and walked carefully across the grass, watching the ground as if something might jump out and grab her. Mitch came closer and closer, finally hovering on the edge of the crowd to pretend to listen to what Luke was saying.

When Luke was finished, the workers fanned out among the trees. Satan straggled after them into the outskirts of the orchard. Now that Satan really looked, she could see that in addition to the budding leaves, the trees were covered with small green buds, about the size of Super Balls, clustered out along the lengths of the limbs.

Satan watch the other workers begin to yank at them and drop them to the ground, letting out tiny thud thuds as they landed. Then she looked back over her shoulder. There was Mitch, right behind her.

"Hi," she said when she saw Satan looking at her. "Do you work her during the summers?"

"No."

Mitch nodded. "Oh. Well, I don't work here either. Amara's my friend."

Satan stuck her hands into her pockets, fingering her empty cigarette pack. "Wow."

Mitch faltered, seeming unsure whether Satan was teasing her or not.

"You're staying in the dorms?" Satan hadn't seen her last night.

Mitch nodded. And yawned, covering her mouth. Her fingernails were bubble gum pink. "What're you doing here?"

"Got caught on the premises. Having wild sex. It was so good I didn't hear anyone coming."

Mitch stiffened before Satan turned and walked several yards down the road.

The trees were set up like checkers- in ever direction you looked, they made a straight line. They were just Satan's size- short and full, each ending at about the same height. But within that uniformity, the trees themselves were as unique as snowflakes-their small trunks and limbs zigzagging, messy, awkward knots of wood marking the unexpected turns of growth, as if the trees themselves hadn't known which way they were going to grown and had started one way and changed their minds.

To Satan, they appeared miniature and delicate, and when she looked up and around, the collective impression was so vast that it made Satan feel far away from everything-from the dorms, definitely from home. Luke she'd stepped onto the checkerboard and out of real life.

She tackled at a tree, swatting at the raw peaches. The branches bent like rubber bands, bouncing back at her after every swat. Satan shrank back, startled.

Someone chuckled behind her. Satan turned to see a man, a long-black-haired, pale man that had a lithe kind of beauty about him, laughing at her.

"What?" Satan asked, defensive.

"You're mad at a tree?"

Satan huffed. "Noooo."

"Here, you're suppose to pick gently." The man's long finger stretched out and tugged at a cluster of peaches and set them falling to the ground- thud thud thud thud thud.

Satan watched him, his slim figure and his pale fingers contrasted to the rich color of the peach, speechless. No one had ever had to teach her anything. At school she was smart, she knew everything from sex to music.

Except maybe peach picking.

And it frustrated her that she was learning something from someone. Especially a pretty guy like him. She glanced at Mitch, who was down the row picking one peach at a time and then ducking to lay them down on the grass, agonizingly slowly.

"Maybe you should go help her instead."

The man looked at Mitch. "She's doing okay. You…" He nodded to the tree. It had knobs in several places and branched out at strange, crooked angles.

Satan picked a few the way he had, trying to imitate his graceful beauty as well as she could. He offered her a crooked smile.

"Thanks." And Satan meant it.

She turned her head to the peaches, at their crooked, misshapen splendor. Then she looked back at the man, wanting to introduce herself.

He was gone.

She blinked. Oh well. And he was good looking too.

The next hour or so passed without Satan noticing the time. What she did notice was the way the air cooled and heated up depending on where she was standing. The trees didn't offer much shade, but the dips in the land did. Satan had the kind of hungry brain that noticed these things, and surprisingly, it didn't find itself bored all morning, until she remember why she was here and that she had no one to blame. She swatted at another branch and it bounced back to stick a twig into her thick hair, clinging to it.

When Satan had extracted herself, her mood was worse than when the day had started, and she suddenly felt tired. The expanse of trees felt endless.

She looked around to make sure no one was watching, then she walked the two hundred yards to Camp A, climbed the two sets of stairs, and crawled onto her bed.

When she remembered the golden haired guy.

She climbed quietly out of the room again, going straight to the back of the dorm.

He was there. Warm, yet cold violet eyes and a devious smirk greeted her.

"Hey, honey."

She looked up at him, the nervous, giddy feeling coming back. "Hey." _Remain cool_, she told herself, casually rocking on her heels. "What were you doing the whole day?"

He looked at her as if she was an idiot again, making her blush. "Waiting for you." Then he shuffled around his pocket and took out a watch, staring at it. "I'd love to talk, but I need to go see someone."

"Then what's the point of you staying here?"

He smirked. "You're worth waiting for."

She was speechless.

That was too much. It was too hard, looking at his perfect, smirking, knowing face, seeing everything she wasn't, everything she longed to be. Taking in the warm smell of the things she yearned for- a life with adventure, with thrill. Looking at god himself, one who had mastered and perfected beauty. It was too much. She walked up to him, glaring at him with fiery crimson eyes.

"Just a little note for you," she spat, anger sprouting out of jealousy and unknown hatred. "The name's Satan, not _Honey_. And you don't have to wait here because _I know_ I'm worth waiting for."

He stared at her with the same amused smirk. It made her feel small, which she hated. Satan whipped around, ready to walk off her anger when she heard his voice.

"Think of a nickname, then, because I'm not calling you Satan."

When she turned around to protest, he was gone.

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**Review! Review! REVIEW!**


	7. Bunbun :: Reality sucks

**This has only Bunbun (because I love writing her, much as I suck at it), Moribana (because she's sweet but can stand up for herself), an EENSY BIT of Rafael (because the story plot needs her) and Lynn (because….well, he's hot? XD) I'm sorry this chapter is so short~ It was mostly written to make Almond Luver and YGOTAS FTW happy XD Enjoy!**

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Bunbun frowned up at the clock, which she'd been frequently glancing at since it had last sung its hourly chime. She had to wait till twelve for Moribana to come back from picking peaches, a task Rafael wouldn't let her do ("I'll be soo bored at home alone!" in which she had to remind the shorter girl that _she_ could go out to pick peaches too, an offer that was waved away and scoffed at), and the wait was unthinkably dull. Rafael herself fell asleep an hour after they had woken up at eight o'clock, leaving Bunbun a full two hours without technology, food, pens, and company. It felt like an eternity had drifted by, but it was only ten fourteen.

Reality was cruel.

She sighed and fingered the buttons on her cream white, T-shaped collared shirt. Bunbun could only wish she could have one of those large, chaotic thoughts that helped her think for a few hours without her herself noticing the time drifting by. But all she could think about was the lightly snoring girl next to her and what a beautiful day it was. A great day to go outside and help Moribana pick peaches. She imagined herself outside with the peaches, the smell of them, and the excitement of doing something. Instead she was inside, sitting with a sleeping girl, wishing off the time, bored to death.

Reality was _really_ cruel.

She sighed, walking over to the kitchen to get a drink of water, the same thing she'd been doing every five minutes since an hour ago. It was more of an excuse to stand up and move around. She didn't know why she needed one, or who she was making the excuse to, but that was the only time she let herself stand up. Stretching dramatically, she unbuttoned the first four buttons of her shirt, just enough to let the cool air in the kitchen flood into her shirt. What she got for a reply was a whistle- a sweet, long howl that sounded like it came from the screen window on the left corner of the kitchen. Bunbun whipped around, paranoid and alert, her eyes searching for the owner of the sudden sound. She spilled the water all over herself and into her shirt. _Crap_.

She whipped around to see those hauntingly dazzling violet eyes -that wouldn't get out of her head- sparkling behind the small square boxes of the screen door.

It was the idiot.

He made a hand motion at her, telling her to come closer.

Bunbun measured the possibilities. She could

ignore him and just be bored the whole day. Or

Just talk to him for a while and then leave.

B, she thought, was better then A. At least he wouldn't be as boring as the figure still sound asleep on the couch, who offered no company at all, unincluding the sound of uneven breathing. She walked up to the door, eyeing him dangerously as if saying: _I'm going, but if you screw up, I'll kill you_. He just smirked in return. Still quite the idiot.

Once she opened the door, though, she regretted choosing _B_.

His strong arms wrapped around her in one strong motion, closing up the space between them immediately. She stiffened as his sweet strawberry-chocolate flavored mouth made its way to hers.

"Hello, Princess," he whispered onto her lips, sending shivers up her spine.

"Hi. Get the fuck off me." The coolness in her own voice surprised her.

"Oh, _that's_ what you wan-"

"**No**." Bunbun gave him her best 'you-better-not-or-else' look, the one that never worked, then steadied herself, cooling off. Lightly raising her small palms up to his shoulders, she pushed him away. He didn't resist. Maybe her 'you-better-not-or-else' look was getting more effective.

Or maybe he had some other twisted, perverted thought in mind.

Surprisingly, though, he just looked up at her with mischievous pools of purple and backed up, hands up in mock surrender.

"What did you think you were doing?" Bunbun sputtered, once detached.

Lynn seemed to stretch, unaffected by the girl's agony. "Simply collecting my reward."

"Reward? What the fu- the _hell_ are you talking about?"

"Remember?" Lynn tapped his chin. "You said you'd rather kiss me. I was merely seeing that my end of the bargain was met."

"I never said that I'd-"

"Ah, ah, ah," he shook a finger. "You said you'd never be my maid and that I didn't need to know your name, ergo, you indirectly agreed to a kiss."

"But that doesn't mean-!"

"Shh," Lynn pressed a finger to her lips. "Please don't spoil the moment..."

Bunbun glared at him, half awed, half annoyed. But as much as she wanted to scream her head off, no sound came out. She stood there dumbfounded as he took a closer look at her. His eyes rested on her wet clothes.

"I know that women have a lot of peculiar habits," the man concluded as he once again drew closer, making Bunbun step back out of instinct, "but I wasn't aware they bathed fully clothed. Isn't that a little inhibiting?"

"You scared the shit out of me," Bunbun said, feeling a little defeated.

Lynn was looking at her curiously, a suppressed half-smirk playing around his eyes.

Bunbun frowned and folded her arms a bit uncomfortably. "What is it?"

"…I'm guessing this is your first time getting called out by a guy."

"Why?"

The man leaned forward. "You look like a wet rat," he said conspiratorially, "but you act like a shy maiden."

"First an orangutan, now a rat? Make up your mind, sheesh!"

He grinned. "'Rat' as in, your completely exposed."

Bunbun glared at him, hurriedly closing up her shirt. _Such_ a perv. "That's not true," she disagreed. "I just have a sense of _decorum._"

"Fancy words, princess."

Bunbun really hoped that wasn't going to be her new nickname. She decided to change the subject. "I hope you had a pleasant talk with Luke."

"So formal, aren't you?" The man smiled; Bunbun noticed he didn't say anything about his visit. "Come here."

Bunbun peered at Lynn and put a hand over her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. "Why should I?"

"Because." As if that answered the question.

"No." His eyes were glazed over with a darker purple, the look she guessed he had when he lusted for something, more accurately, Bunbun. That look was dangerous.

Without a warning, a tan hand shot out at her, moving so quickly she didn't have time to react. All she could see was a blur of color and motion, and when she did realize what was happening, he was already pressed up right behind her, his hands snaking its way up to the button of her shirt.

"You know," he said huskily, teasing her neck with his sharp teeth. "When I said you were exposed, I meant the water made your shirt cling to you." Bunbun tried to stifle a moan by clasping her hand on her mouth, but he whisked them away, continuing to nibble on her soft neck. "And it's driving me nuts."

By this time Bunbun was so lost in pleasure; she could hardly make out what he was saying. Her neck, Bunbun realized, was her weak spot. Once his sweet fangs got to them, there was no way out.

In other words, she was officially screwed.

"Mmph…God," she managed to pant out before she started moaning again. Her heart beat furiously against her chest, like a caged wild bird, flapping its wings against silver bars. "Nngh- mn… No…not- don't-…Ah…Lynnnnnnnnnnn…"

He didn't move for a moment, but after a while she could feel his soft lips curving up against her neck, and mentally could see his god like features smirking. "I love it when you make sounds like that."

Pervert. He continued to ravage her neck. "Guh…Ngh… Ly-Lynn… Lynn…"

_Funny, _she thought to herself dreamily. _If someone walked by, they'd think he was a vampire. _She cocked her to the right so he could have more space to work. He continued, then seemed to have gotten bored with himself. He started using his tongue.

"AH!" Her legs gave in, losing its power, and she let herself lean against him. She moaned freely, not bothering to contain herself. Completely lost herself in delighted joy.

Until the screen door slammed open, along with a surprised gasp.

The mouth finally left her at peace, and Bunbun realized something was very, _very_ wrong.

"OH GOD, BUNBUN!"

…Reality was cruel.

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

Bunbun sat at the end of the couch, as far as she possibly could away from Lynn and Moribana. It was embarrassing enough she had been moaning in front of him. She almost wished the other girl didn't have to see her like that, so exposed, so sex-hungry. She watched haughtily as Moribana glared daggers at the purple eyed, perverted idiot.

"What," Moribana said, murderous rage flooding her voice. "did you think you were doing? **Who do you think you are?**"

Despite the anger in her voice, the man only offered her a smirk, his eyes dancing. "I thought I was making out with her. And I'm Lynn."

Moribana's face flushed with speechless fury. Bunbun winced, preferring not to look at her calm companion's anger-drugged state. "You-you-"

"I'm," he finished for her with his trademark face expression. "sorry I surprised you, but I can't say it won't happen again." With this, he looked over at Bunbun, no panic in his casual glance. "She tastes rather good."

Despite the situation, Bunbun felt herself turn scarlet.

The oldest girl's temper had reached its highest point. "YOU!" Her voice seemed so shrill and high compared to Lynn's. "WILL STAY _AWAY_ FROM BUNBUN. YOU'RE JUST SEX DRIVEN AND WILD. A RAPIST, A CRIMINAL! YOUNG AND FULL OF YOURSELF, THAT'S WHAT! ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS YOURSELF, YOURSELF, _YOURSELF_! SHE DESERVES MORE. SHE'S YOUNG AND HOPEFUL. I'M HER SUPERVISOR AS OF HER STAY IN THE ORCHARD, AND I, SPEAKING ON BEHALF OF LUKE AND EVERYONE ELSE, WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO BE ANYWHERE NEAR BUNBUN!"

The whole time Moribana was talking, Lynn just leaned into the couch, watching the ranting girl with thoughtful eyes. He didn't get mad, or annoyed, or irritated. He just stared, taking everything she said in. And if he _did_ feel anything…Well, he sure knew how to hide it.

When she had finished, his purple eyes shifted from Moribana to Bunbun, who was curled up with her head to her knees in the corner of the couch in front of him. He gave her a little nod of acknowledgment, the smirk never faltering. Then he looked back at the oldest girl. "Relax," he said with the voice as dark and cool as the desert night. "I won't throw her away for a long time. Probably not until I've fucked her a million times." With this, he threw a look at Bunbun, who stared at him, speechless. "And knowing her, that won't happen for a good ten years." He looked away. "So don't worry." With this he stood up and gave the poor, speechless Moribana a pat on the shoulder, and walked out the door.

…The _nerve._ It was fascinating how calm he was.

Moribana stared at Bunbun, disappointed and flabbergasted. "You…you totally let him use you."

Bunbun looked away.

The moment would have stayed like that forever, Moribana staring sadly at Bunbun and Bunbun looking away, had it not been for the interruption.

"HEY BABY!" Rafael jumped in, giving Moribana a nod. "I just met this hottie outside, who'd been coming out from this dorm. You guys didn't happen to have a secret threesome with him, right? Oh, and I brought back our workers. Twelve o'clock! Time flies when you're having fun, right?"

…Reality was _so_ cruel.

**Review? Review? REVIEW! DON'T MAKE REALITY CRUEL FOR ME TOO!**


	8. Amara, Mitch, & Bunbun :: Summer nights

**I have been given the permission to continue this story! Please continue to support it! And i'm sorry for all the non-Lynn/Bunbun smut that happens here, but I had to let some other people get in the way in order to keep the story going. **  
**Enjoy~!**

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Luke had always invited the workers to dinner on the first night of picking to celebrate the start of the season. This year, though, Luke had opted for a quiet family dinner instead, and now he, Ryoko, Amara, and Mitch sat around the kitchen table in silence.

On the chalkboard beside the refrigerator, Ryoko had written down the phone messages for Luke. It used to be that Ira would see them, take care of them, and erase them. In the weeks since the woman had been gone, they had collected and stayed there, glaring at everyone all day long. Now the neglected board listed calls from Rafeku, Rin, and Wachovia.

Next to Amara, Honey Bbe had his short little legs on her friend Mitch's calf and was trying to jump up and sniff her crotch. Amara tugged him gently by the tail.

"Get in your place, Honey. Go on, get in your place." Honey Babe stared up at her mournfully for a second, then pranced over to the corner by the olive green stone and lay down, tapping his paws in a gesture of contained restlessness.

Mitch, though, wore a wrinkled nose and a frown and held her hands tight over her skirt. Why she'd brought skirts to wear to the farm was anyone's guess. Amara shot glances at her over Ryoko's signature rib eye steak, feeling uncomfortable. She hadn't asked Mitch to come in the fist place. But here Mitch was, wrinkling her nose and obviously judging. Judging Amara's room, her dogs, her house's out-of-date kitchen. Amara tucked a forkful of sweet corn in her mouth, wondering why she still cared so badly about what Mitch thought. It had been this way since they hit puberty and drifted about. Amara had always wanted Mitch to be her friend, and she had no idea why.

Amara looked at her guardian, who had been jabbering excitedly with Ryoko through the whole dinner. Then at Mitch, who sat with her legs crossed and her wrists resting at the edge of the table like a china doll, occupying Ira and yawning occasionally. Amara pulled her elbows to her side. From the corner, Honey Babe let out a tiny squeaky sympathetic howl. Everyone chewed loudly.

Exhausted from the day, which was always one of the most challenging of the year, Amara snaked a finger shyly across the table and patted her guardian's fingers Since her 'older sister' had gone, Amara noticed the ways it mattered that Ira wasn't around, and today-with all that Ira would have been doing to help get the season moving-had been a major day for that. The big was Amara missed her other guardian were expected. The little ways were hard for their own reasons, because they took her by surprise. Amara knew Luke felt that way too. Luke turned his head to her and smiled, his dark skin crinkling slightly. "Did you bring the old bottles down to the cider house?"

Amara shook her head. "Not yet." Actually, she'd done extra chores in other areas to avoid the cider house. So far, she'd managed to avoid scar completely. Which, on a small farm, was actually quite a feat.

"When are they saying..." Amara looked away from Luke, to Ryoko. "...that...Frost might hit?"

"They're not," Ryoko said. "Your _guardian_ is saying the end of the next week. No sense worrying over something that may not happen."

"You're right," Amara muttered back. But Luke was good t what he did. He never spoke idly. Amara read about farmers setting fires to keep their trees warm, fighting a losing battle against Mother Nature. The universes wouldn't be that cruel, would it?

"Um, this steak's really good," Mitch offered. Amara had always noticed she liked to pretend nothing was wrong, ever.

Ryoko looked at her suspiciously. "And you've hardly touched a bite."

"Oh, you know, i'm not into AL sauce," Mitch said. "And i'm becoming a vegetarian. Well, i'm trying to stop eating meat when it's raw." Amara looked down at her own bloody steak. She too had lost her appetite.

Ryoko looked from Mitch to Amara, her white eyes flashing behind the dull square glasses she wore. "...Right. Why don't you two go for a walk? We even have some new workers today. Men, dropping in at the most random times. They're young, though, and I think they have a good sense of humor. Go say hi or something."

Mitch shrugged, but Amara blushed. She didn't want to show Mitch her pathetic sate in front of guys. But she wasn't about to back off. Amara gave Ryoko one of her famous grimace smiles and trailed after Mitch onto the porch, then down the grass and along the driveway. The fields were empty since most of the workers had quit for dinner. The dogs tapped out after them. Amara eyed Mitch sideways from time to time. She was pretty enough to knock down doors. And it kind of made it hard not to want to be friends with her. But she was also cold and uptight. Amara couldn't imagine living her life all buttoned up the way Mitch's was. But for the moment she looked at Mitch with envy. Amara felt the weight of the orchard's problems like stones on her chest sometimes, and now was one of those times. Mitch didn't have to worry about things like that.

Amara fiddled with the brain in her hair, taking comfort in the cool cotton of her filmy white shirt and the hemp capris her sister had bout her at Squash Blossom in Atlanta. The orchard spread out beyond the porch, looking as bright green and healthy as it ever had. But with its trees so small and so exposed, it was hard to ignore that it was also delicate. And that was what scared Amara the most.

"Whadda you want to do?" Mitch asked, clearly not having listened to Ryoko. If she had, Mitch was the kind of person who'd head there immediately.

The srare sound of a car pulling up made the dogs perk up their butterfly ears. A few moments later a white El Camino came chugging around the bend, blaring peppy music and leaving a stream of gray exhaust in its wake. Several people came to the front of the dorms to see what all the noise was about. The engine cut out, and then a man emerged from the driver's side, yelling at his companions to try to be heard over the music. Then he looked back at the people gathered around his car and smiled-a smile that was so reassuring, it caught Amara off guard. The man had a shock of neat, straight black hair, and large searching dark eyes that seemed to hold a hint of sorrow, even though he otherwise looked perfectly happy. He was young - no more than twenty-five with sun-kissed dark skin. "Hello there," he said to no one in particular. "We just signed up. I hope my stupid car hasn't caused you guys too much trouble."

Everyone else murmured, nodding at him, smiling at him, and some people even waved. The rest of the crown watched awe-struck as the other three came out. The first one to climb out of the small car and look on quietly from one workers to the next was a man whose face looked like a teen's, but eyes had aged. He was frail, thin, and tiny, with a few long strands of black hair in his otherwise short hair. He smoked something that resembled a pipe and had small, red, ruby lips. In all, he reminded Amara of a wise snow white. When his borwn eyes hit her, it studied her for a moment before turning to Mitch, then the next person. Everyone was juded for the same length of time.

The next person was a beautiful woman with long, curly eyelashes, wavy hair, and a straight nose. Once again, Amara felt the pang of jealousy she had felt when she had looked at Mitch and Satan. They lived in a different world, a world where they got more because they were pretty. The first thing the woman did was stretch, yawn, and look over the crowd in two seconds flat with sparkling grey eyes.

The last person to come out, cursing and growling, was a tall, pale man with white hair and red eyes who seemed to have make-up on. His body clinked whenever he moved from all the heavy loads of jewelery he had on, and he was wearing all black. He was thin, and his crimson yes narrowed at everyone when he looked over at them.

Peculiar guests. Amara waited for the fourth man.

Just then, another man emerged from the dorms; a god-like figure with golden hair and piercing purple eyes. He walked casually over to the newcomers and started helping them unload as if they were long time friends.

The man, Amara realized after studying him for a while, was their leaded. Even when he was silent, he as in command. She could tell by the way the other four looked at him. Like a magnet that attracted unconscious respect and dread wherever he went. His deep, honey like a voice rose above the others. t was in the curl of his lips and the angle of his jaw, his deliberate movements and his lazy smirk, how he moved in the world as if he possessed it, down to the last grain of sand. Before him, Amara was as hypnotized and helpless a a gazelle before the killing blow, paralyzed with awe. Where Amara tiptoed apologetically, the man strode, tall and proud and defiant. And when he laughed, he laughed as if he'd put a joke on the entire universe.

All this Amara noticed in the first four seconds she had seen him. Amara liked noticing these small things. She continued studying him until his purple eyes locked with hers. She started blushing furiously and looked away from him, trying to watch him from the corner of her eye without letting him notice. Without dropping his gaze, he whispered something to the small man, who nodded and started walking toward Amara.

"Hello," he said in a pleasant, soft voice. "Lynn tells me you're one of the people in charge." Ah. So his name was Lynn. "I just signed up a few days ago. Where should I go?"

The pretty girl stepped up behind him. "Oh?~ So she's Luke's sister?~ She's so cute! My name's Sh, what's yours?" Her voice was high and girly, typical. Amara glanced over at Mitch, trying to remember what her voice sounded like, but then found that she was gone. Amara looked back at the woman, putting on a forced smile.

"My name's Amara."

"Amara? Y, you should get a name like Amara. It's sweet and girly. It fits you."

'Y', or the small man, rolled his eyes and placed a hand on his pipe. "No, it fits you. You're completely gay."

Amara cleared her throat, then looked up at Y. "I heard there were four guys."

"Yes, that there is."

"So...um...who's the fourth guy?..."

Y looked at SH, then burst out laughing.

"SEE?"

SH only huffed and shoved a lock of hair behind her ear with her long fingernails. "That doesn't prove anything."

The white haired man showed up behind them, his eyes sweeping over Amara fiercely before eying Y as if he was crazy. "What's going on her? Are you guys going to have sex or something?"

SH looked at the man sheepishly. "No. She did say I looked pretty, though."

Red eyes turned to Amara, awed. "Tougher than you look, eh?"

Amara blushed.

Just then, the purple eyed man appeared, seemingly out of no where, glancing at Y. "Care to include me in your little joke?" He looked at Amara.

"..."

What was she suppose to say? Still watching her, the man raise an eyebrow. Amara felt uncomfortable, having him watch her like that, and it seemed like her tongue refused to leave the roof of her mouth. She felt like an ant transfixed by the gaze of the hot sun, unable to take a breath.

The silence dragged on.

Finally, Lynn gave a despairing sigh and glanced at SH, then the white-haired man.

"Will someone please teach this girl how to talk?"

A collective snicker rose from the group. Amara felt a reply suddenly spring unbidden her mouth and bit her lip - knowing that anything she had right now would not reflect well on her. She was better schooled than most at holding her tongue.

Finally, SH came to her rescue.

"She thought I looked like a girl."

Purple eyes twinkled in amusement, then shifted back to the girl. "Did you, now? We share similar beliefs."

SH looked devastated.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Amara mumbled.

"Aw! Don't get so down, it's fine~! It happens a lot!" With that, SH left, walking over to the white haired man and Y, who were having a fight of some kind.

The purple eyed man smirked at her, which made her heart pound. Up close, he was that much more handsome.

"My name's Lynn," he said, holding out a hand. She slowly reached hers up, then felt soft, comforting hands shake hers. When he let go, she could feel the warmth of his hand on hers like a phantom. "Nice to meet you, majesty."

She smiled shyly, rubbing the palms of her hand. "I'm Amara," she said softly. Nice to meet you."

::::::::

Mitch ran to her dorm, flushed with anger. She ran with all her might, praying that he had and hadn't seen her. She was split. Half of Mitch didn't want him to see her so she could just escape back to her room and the bliss of sleep. The other half of Mitch wanted.._.needed_ him to have seen her and come after her. Needed him to come tell her that he loved her, and what she had seen was a mistake.

Sure enough, footsteps thudded behind her. She slowed herself purposely, then completely dropped the act and started walking. Lynn caught up to her quickly, looking confused.

"Hey Gorgeous," he said, smiling at her. "What're you running away from?"

Mitch looked down at her hot pink toes. "I...just wanted to...run."

She could feel the burn of his eyes and she could imagine the worried look on his face. He reached over and lifted her chin, searching her light blue eyes for the real explanation. But Mitch knew she had spent too many years hiding to have her eyes show raw emotions. Though she was burning with hurt, happiness, and despair inside, her eyes were blank and bored. His eyes, though, continued to search hers. Either he was trying to break her little wall of fake boredom, or he had seen a flicker of emotion and was waiting for it to hit again.

Then, suddenly, he let go of her chin and backed away, not too far but not at all close either. He looked disappointed, but not at Mitch. She continued walking to her dorm, slowly, watching to see if he'd explain.

He didn't. He followed after her, hands in his pockets, casual smirk playing upon his face, and winking at the occasional lady walking by. That enraged Mitch. How could he flirt in front of her? She glared at him every time he did, and he ad caught her glares over fifteen times. But all he did was look at her inquisitively, unashamed, waiting for an explanation that never came. Then he'd press the small of her back and get her walking again. He'd talk to her softly, coaxing her, and he'd call her gorgeous, using words that made her heart and fury melt immediately, words that were gifts and stuck to her like sweet honey.

Words that meant nothing.

It was this, Lynn's lovely words and his knowledgeable glory that had made Mitch fall for him. His beauty had lasted for a long time, true, but beauty, no matter how rich, was only skin-deep. With him, his physical features only masked the darker, devious creature- _demon_ he really was. The demon that spoke the truth and made Mitch feel clean, fresh, and unfearful of everything. He made her feel like she owned the world, and she needed, if not by everyone else, by him. He caressed her, his words deep and mysterious and beautiful. He spoke logic in music, brought up a completely original idea.

And he flirted with her too. Oh how he flirted. Implying love without saying it.

But then he did that for every girl in the world.

He still wanted to believe he loved her, that the looks he gave her meant something more than the looks he gave others. And she began remembering every sweet thing he did to her, a habit that turned almost stalkerish.

No, this wasn't like her. She had to stop. Now.

She halted, felt Lynn halt next to her, and turned her around, forcing her eyes to meet his. He responded with the same twinkle in his eyes.

She couldn't stand it. She had fought her urge long enough.

Reaching a hand out, she pulled his neck closer to hers and slammed their lips together, savoring the sweet taste of Lynn. He didn't respond, but he didn't push her away either. Taking this as a sign to continue, Mitch deepened the kiss, pressing herself against his body and enjoying the feeling of his strong muscles rub against her stomach. Then, breathless, she pushed herself away, looking at him for a response.

His eyes were normal, default, with their normal charm in them. He looked at Mitch, almost bored.

She stood back, startled. "Lynn, I-I-" She cleared her throat, stepping away from him and blindly reaching out at space. "I like you..."

She ran the rest of the way to the dorm, and flew in through the entrance. The only thing she could think about was the blank look Lynn had on when they had kissed.

:::::::

Bunbun stared through her window as the blond girl she had met earlier and Lynn seemingly made out, enraged for reasons she didn't bother to identify. She didn't like him. She had already guessed that he was a player. So why did it make her feel so numb to watch him kiss someone else?

_Reality sucks. _


	9. Satan & Rafael:: The 3rd wheel

**Sorry for the late update~ My account was hacked by some weirdo. **  
**Anyways, for those of you who are waiting for Bunbun/Lynn smut, it'll come soon :3 I'm working on it! **  
**And I think that's all I have to say. Enjoy! **

Over the next couple of days Satan steered clear of as much work as possible.

Each morning she listened to the other workers rise at dawn and hid her head under her pillow, waiting for them to go away so she could fall back asleep, trying her best to ignore the blue jay that started chirping as soon as everybody else went out. At night she was too exhausted by the little work she did do to break curfew, which was at ten. She wondered if the fresh air had too much oxygen in it.

Between the time work ended and lights-out, Satan was free to do what she liked. But unlike the others, she wasn't allowed to do it outside of the circle delineated by the dorms, the supply barns, and the house. All because she smoked.

She walked the circle endlessly like a caged tiger until she knew every inch of grass on the way from Camp A to Camp B to Luke's front porch. She'd noticed the way Luke checked up on her from time to time, coming by the dorms a couple of times each evening. She looked for Lynn, but she never really saw him. That one wait still burned her through her chest.

On Wednesday afternoon she was meandering along her usual evening route when she noticed Ryoko placing a small statue on the railing of the porch. She knew Ryoko had just been to the dump, but she didn't make the effort to ask Ryoko what it was or if that's where she had gotten it. The statue looked like some kind of tin saint- it wore a red cape and had it hands pressed together in prayer. Satan was staring at the statue and walking, so she didn't notice Fekin until she was right in front of him.

The muscular grey haired man stared coldly at her with his dull, mesmerizing dark blue eyes. He looked more like a body builder then a peach picker.

"Hi," Satan said, waving at him a little. He stared back in response, not bothering to move. Across his left eye was a huge white scar. A few seconds of awkward silence passed until he opened his mouth. "I was looking for you." He was wearing a red button shirt that was open, exposing his chest all the way to his waistband, where his navy blue pants hung low. His voice was rough and deep and unfeeling. "Ryoko called to check on your progress." Satan squinted up at him, her hands over her eyes, not replying. "She says your choices are, you can start getting up on time with everyone else, or you can work the hours you miss at midday." He paused, as if talking with her was the most tedious and boring thing ever. "She offered to remove you to a road cleaning crew instead." Satan continued squinting at him, but he didn't seem bothered. "It's your choice," he said, and brushed past her, his sturdy shoulders brushing past her thin ones.

On Thursday morning, Satan crawled out of bed at dawn.

Through Thursday and Friday she spent most of each morning trying to look as busy as possible while doing very little. She stood in front of the farthest trees with her walkman blaring, tugging occasionally at the peach nubs and then resting her arms. She liked to go back to the farthest trees of the row they'd been told to do that day, where she rarely saw another worker and could turn in a 360 and feel like there was nothing but peach trees leading off the edge of the earth.

Already she felt like the edge of the earth was exactly where she'd landed. Even in the dorms, but especially in the fields, her home felt like it had to be a thousand miles away. The orchard smelled thick: Scents of mud, buds, insects, and early-blooming flowers overlapped one another. Satan had spent all her life breathing the aroma of fry grease and parking lot weeds. Squirrels darted up and down the trees, and rabbits and the occasional groundhog watched Satan work, reminding her that the orchard was the world to them, that they'd never seen Taco Bell and would never be road kill. It was actually comforting. It was still earth, but without the crap.

Occasionally she'd get a glimpse of one of the other workers down a row, peeping out and disappearing. She paid special attention to glimpses of Mitch, who did her own brand of shirking by picking one hard peach at a time, rolling it around in her fingers gingerly as if it were an exotic jewel, and then gently dropping it to the ground. Satan watched her curiously, wondering why she looked so tired every day, a little bitter that Mitch was able to do her shirking so openly. Under their feet the piles of hard, raw peaches grew so that you could hardly step without your foot rolling on one. By Friday, Satan felt her feet rolling in her sleep.

That night, since it was the fourth of July, the workers gathered in a group around the barbecue, talking and laughing. Getting up from her third nap that day, Satan tugged a pair of cords over her hips and went down to join them.

The air, despite it being summer, was slightly chilly, and Satan walked up to the grill, placing her palms out. Everyone was still staring at the fire, talking. Moribana and the other women made a place for her, albeit less enthusiastically than they had the first couple of days. Lynn, Rafael, Mitch, Bunbun, Amara, the guy she had met while picking peaches, and even Fekin were no where in sight. Infact, none of the younger workers were there. They were all older then her by ten or more years, Unincluding Moribana, who was older by seven. Every few minutes, someone made an effort to include her, explaining the current topic.

"We are talking about the frost," one woman said, leaning in to her. "They say we might get it next week. It's bad for the trees."

Satan nodded, feeling like this might be one of the most boring conversation topics of all time. While the workers continued talking, she swiveled to look over her shoulder and saw Mitch picking her way down from the main house, where, presumably, she'd been eating dinner each night. It made no sense to Satan that she slept down in the dorms. She did everything she could to avoid the people there. Without looking at anyone, Mitch edged to the side of the dorm and disappeared inside.

After a while Satan stood up and walked to where the light coming from Camp A met the dusk. She lit a cigarette and zipped up her hooded sweatshirt. It was just getting dark, and the crickets had started to chirp. The breeze gave Satan a tingly feeling in her stomach. For a second it reminded her why she had liked the orchard and how she'd ended up here in the first place. The shadows made it look inviting and cool and restful. She decided to stroll over to the supply barn.

Once she had reached the barn, she picked up the phone and stared at the dial pad. She thought about calling her sister, but she couldn't stand hearing more about Sunny. They'd been on three dates in the few days Satan had been gone. It Satan called next week, it was more than likely he'd be out of the picture. So instead, she dialed Raguel.

"Raguel, it's Satan. Feel like spending some time on the farm?"

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

Raguel revved up his beat-down truck in four minutes flat. He peered through the car window at Satan. The sight of a familiar person strangely made her heart beat.

"So," he said after he'd parked the car and given her a long hug. "How's this place? You like it?"

Did she like it? Waking up at dawn in the morning, having weird animals watch her, being forced to talk with the oldies and not the teens, being alone, lonely. Was it?

"Yeah. I guess."

"Great." Raguel smiled and took out his cigarette pack. Satan eyed him curiously.

"I thought you said you quit."

Raguel reached into his back pocket and pulled out a lighter. It was a new one with lots of black decorations. "Got rid of that shitty thing."

"…Hey, Raguel?"

"Huh?"

"Thanks. You know, for bringing me here."

He grinned. "Okay, whaddya want?"

Satan rolled her eyes. "Nothing. Dig your own grave, why don't you. Oh yeah, and Raguel?"

"Huh?"

"I'm still bored.

"…Not great…"

()-()-()-()-()-()-()

Two hours later, when the elderly people around the fire had fallen asleep, Satan was sliding through the screen door and trucking through the trees.

She could feel her heart throbbing in different spots- her wrists, her throat, her thumbs. Satan always liked to weight the risk of anything she was doing, but in this case she couldn't gauge what they were. Zigzagging through the small trees, with her feet sliding on the discarded buds, was different that night. She felt like she might run into Hansel and Gretel. Or Snow White.

"Yow." Satan slapped at her leg just as she reached the overgrowth that separated the farm from the tracks. A fat, juicy fire ant clung to her ankle. She slapped it again, smooshing it. "Damn."

Satan had a particular bitterness, and also an admiration, for fire ants. They were little stealth fighters. They climbed up on your legs on tiptoes, knowing you wouldn't notice them, and then when one bit you, it released a pheromone that signaled them to bite you all at once. Vindictive little suckers.

Satan jumped back and forth on the ties of the track while she waited, challenging herself to do different tricks- jumping on tiptoe, jumping backward, jumping backward on tiptoe. She smoked another cigarette and waited. For nothing. Just anything to happen.

Then she saw a figure back out of the door, closing it softly. Satan watched it for a moment, her pulse spiking again, making sure it was who she thought it was. When she was sure, she padded forward and tapped the figure on the back. Bunbun shot straight up and snapped around.

"Oh God, you scared me."

"Shh. What're you doing?"

Bunbun eyed her wearily. "Luke let out whoever wanted to have a dip in the lake…and you know, party there as long as we didn't make too much noise. I just decided to go, since I couldn't sleep. Were you headed there too?"

Satan shrugged with studied carelessness. It drove her crazy to think Bunbun-of all people- had somewhere to sneak out while she didn't. "Sure," she whispered.

Bunbun nibbled her lip. "Oh." They both stood there for a second awkwardly. "Then come with me? I don't know where it is."

Satan thought for a moment, mentally weighing a night of being unconscious against a night hanging out with Bunbun and whoever was there, which would probably be almost as boring. But she was wide awake and full of energy. The thought of shutting out the night and the sounds of the orchard was depressing. "I guess."

"One thing," Bunbun said before following Satan. "Amara's there."

Satan chose to ignore the comment.

With their heads bowed, the girls started back across the wide, exposed area of grass, looking toward the house for any movement. Once they reached the trees, Bunbun looked at Satan and shrugged. "This is pretty much all I know."

From the purplish light still coming in through the edge of the trees, her face was shadowy but mostly visible. Her eyes were wide and innocent and fluttery. Satan was pretty sure her eyes had never fluttered. Never.

"Oh God," Satan whispered back. The moon had popped out behind the clouds for a moment and the bare branches of the trees cast shadows across the footpaths.

"Where are we going?"

Satan started forward. "I'll show you."

They disappeared into the view.

:::::::

"What are you doing here?"

Rafael spilled her Soju* in the lake, suppressing a scream. Then she turned around and squinted up at the man in front of her. "You look ridiculous, Scar," she spat, hiccupping.

The raven haired man frowned out of the hood of his disguise, a rotting scrap of linen that barely hid his paler-than-normal skin. "I'm concealed, unlike you." He reluctantly joined Rafael, and his disguise crunched as he sat. "You haven't been picking peaches for three days, fool. What've you been doing?"

Rafael frowned into her extra bottle of Soju, stubbornly silent.

"Or perhaps you just want to spend time with your new boyfriend?..."

Rafael flinched, then smirked. "You're just jealous. You just want to be with me."

Irritated, Scar barked back, "And we both know you're only sulking because the Thief spurns you."

Rafael dropped her mug again, her tone flushed. "I _don't_-"

"And you only like him because you refuse to give up your infatuation with me," the man continued.

Rafael gasped, her embarrassment morphing into anger. "You-_you_-" She grabbed Scar's shoulders. "You know _nothing_ about-"

Distant shouts and laughter interrupted them.

Rafael's fickle attention span was drawn to the sound. "What's that?"

Scar calculated the order of evens every fourth of July in his head. "Other friends who just arrived from different states."

Rafael raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried about people getting all crazy at me for being drunk?"

"It doesn't concern you." For the moment, anyway. They were well concealed behind the huge rows of rocks that were hard to climb over.

"Did you…" Rafael had apparently gotten a better look at Scar's face. "Did you get _sunburned_, Scar?"

The man twisted out of Rafael's grip and shrugged the linen forward, further concealing his face. "It doesn't matter."

Rafael's face tightened and then broke into a grin. "You're all _pink,_ Scar!" And she was giggling now. "No wonder! I never thought you would have such _delicate_ skin."

"_Rafael_." The conversation really was getting side tracked. "How much have you drunk today?"

Rafael drug-giggled, holding up four clanking, empty bottles of Evana.*

The man realized that the reason Rafael wasn't being herself was because she was thoroughly drunk, almost to the point where she was insane. He also realized she'd die of alcohol poisoning if she continued to drink. And again, he realized…he'd sort of like that.

"You were so—so—hot! You—_he,_ now, is _hot_!" The insane-Rafael groaned and smacked her fist on the rock a couple of times. "I mean, I would have totally done him that night if I could have!"

"I know," the man growled, not that Rafael was paying any attention to him anymore.

"I mean, he's so gorgeous! God!" And there was an awkward pause where Rafael's eyes clouded over with hazy fantasies. "You're just not like that anymore."

"Good," the man agreed. He had lost interest in Rafael's inclinations. That wasn't her talking, so did it really matter whether the drunk, drug crazed, insane side of the girl liked him or not? He started at the drink in her hand, wondering how much alcohol it'd take him to start ranting off crazily. Probably sixteen times more then Rafael.

Rafael frowned at him again. "There's nothing attractive about callousness, Scar."

"If that was my priority I'd care," the man dismissed. Then he sat back, staring at the stars.

That small motion was enough for Rafael to close in on that rotting hood and work her tongue in between Scar's teeth.

_Now_ their conversation was sidetracked.

Scar took Rafael's neck in one hand and shoved her head backward. He tried not to think about how he would get the taste of Rafael's tongue out of his memory, again. It was bad enough that Rafael's conscious self had… But he tried not to recall those memories either.

"Not to say I'm surprised, _slut_."

Scar was certainly not surprised to hear that voice.

Rafael was. She flinched so badly that she almost escaped from the man's choke hold.

The Thief, D&A, looked—but Scar was biased, obviously he _knew_ exactly how the Thief was feeling because he could remember how _he_ had felt—betrayed, enraged, for reasons that were only vaguely acknowledged at that moment.

The thief's glare shot at the pale skinned man, avoiding Rafael's shocked look. "You'll come out for that whore, but not for me?"

Rafael's drunk pulse slowed silently, and a bit of herself returned to her eyes as she processed the information. "You- _you know_ each other?"

The thief paid no attention to her, hurt obvious in his eyes. "The hell. She's better then me? Even when your sweet little Amara's getting attacked?"

Scar rolled his eyes. "She wasn't in any danger."

"Oh yeah? Next time, I won't hold back."

Meanwhile, the drunk Rafael had returned, struggling to escape Scar's choke-hold. "Darling, I-"

"But isn't _he_ your Darling?" the Thief snarled, gesturing towards the other man. "I'm not desperate enough to go after someone else's girl."

"I don't love him!" Rafael screamed, practically climbing over the rocks to get to the Thief. Her eyes were glazed over and desperate. Thanks to the drinks. "I don't love him! I don't!"

The thief's mouth twisted into another snarl, this time more fierce and murderous. "That's why you forced yourself on him, right? Hope you had a nice make out session. I think I'll go get myself someone else." Then he shoved himself away from the rock.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you. And don't you even consider following me." the Thief shouted, disturbing the silent rocks even further. In a whip of his crimson coat, he stormed away from the lake.

"Wait!" Rafael cried but stumbled over a rock under her foot, which allowed the criminal to escape. Pink-faced and insane, Rafael swung back to the other man. "You _knew_ he was there, didn't _you_? You let me kiss you so he would see… _you_…"

"I forgot." That was a lie. Scar had known the Thief was listening to their entire conversation. But both Rafael and the Thief needed the lesson.

"Ah, _bitch_," Rafael swore, before dashing after the Thief.

And once again, Scar was alone, just like he'd been that day Rafael had met the thief for the first time on the farm.

:::::::

The rows went much farther than Satan had ever gone or ever expected to go. It was several minutes before they emerged from the last stand of peach trees onto a sloped grassy hill. The grass became a wide, dark blotch at the foot of the hill, barely distinguishable from the dark lake in front of it, except that tiny plunks of water were bursting all over it surface. Satan thought she could've easily walked by the huge lake and not noticed it was there. The girls stood and gazed at it. Satan wanted to say it was gorgeous, but she didn't want to say it to Bunbun. She had the immediate thought that nobody had seen this lake but the two of them.

But no, once she looked harder, about half a mile from where she was sitting was a little island of rocks, and on there a man. More specifically, the man she had seen while picking peaches, but he looked more isolated than he did that day. On the other side of the lake, which was about a mile away, was a fire that Satan could only dimly see, but knew was there. She could hear their roars and screams of laughter even from here.

Satan sank down onto the grass. Bunbun sat down beside her, primly pulling in her knees and tugging the hem of her robe down around her ankles. She peered beyond Satan's shoulder, then scanned the trees. Satan leaned back on her elbows and sighed, pulling her hood over her already-wet head, and decided she would have to put this evening in her book of things she never though would happen, right below incarcerated at a peach orchard and meeting a guy whose eyes captivated her so much.

A pounding noise behind them made them start and turn around.

"What the…"

A dark figure came bursting out of the bushes before Satan could get the words out. She and Bunbun jumped to their feet. But before Satan's body could coil enough to run, the figure was across the grass and in front of them, shooting an arm around Bunbun's waist and lifting her into the air, her legs flinging up behind her at right angles.

Bunbun was squealing and laughing with childish excitement when her feet hit the ground. Satan watched Bunbun turn around in the guy's hands and push him away. And then Satan made out that it was the face of Lynn looking over Bunbun's shoulder at her, or not quite at Satan, but toward her. He didn't have his shirt on, and his golden, spiky hair was wet.

"Eh? I thought she was spending the night with Moribana?"

"I asked her to come," Bunbun said, breathing hard, looking back at Satan but also, it felt like, through her.

"Heh. So we meet again, Honey."

"Yeah. Lynn, right?"

He turned to Bunbun, seeming to have not heard Satan. "Let's go swimming."

"No way. It's July."

"Ah… Exactly."

"I don't have a bathing suit and I don't want you talking about that…weird…pervy stuff."

"You don't need a bathing suit." He snaked an arm around her waist again. "And Princess, you're already wet…"

Satan felt like an idiot. A huge, third-wheel idiot. She shouldn't have come. Or if she had, she should've brought a boat so she could go to the other side, where the other people were cooking something and having fun. She had no use here… Satan looked up at Lynn through her eyelids.

He had a bad boy's kind of body. Finely muscled, with one tattoo* Satan couldn't quite make out just below and to the left of his collarbone. He had a body that would let him get away with things with girls.

Satan could see Lynn was trying to sweet talk Bunbun into getting in the water. After a moment's deliberation, Satan stood calmly and pulled off her T-shirt. "I'll go swimming." Anyone at Kuntry Kitchen or Bob's Big Boy could have told them Satan wasn't going to take being an odd girl lying down.

She had only a second to see Bunbun's look of surprise, her eyes curving in a perfect O, before Satan dropped her shorts. She stood in her skivvies for a moment, grinning at them, waiting for Lynn to do the inevitable breast gaze. But his heavy-lidded eyes moved to Bunbun. Satan waited for them to wander, but they didn't, gleaming as though-once again- he was on some private joke she wasn't. It made her cross her arms over her chest.

"Fine," Bunbun said, yanking off her robe, or, rather, letting it waterfall off her to reveal a stick on T-shirt and pajama shorts. She walked up to the water, held her arms up in the air, and dived, her black hair spreading itself in the water as soon as she hit it.

Satan stared, then looked at Lynn, who smirked at her. He still hadn't seemed to notice she had breasts. "Princesses have lousy dive, don't you think?" Then he barreled in after her, executing a stunningly beautiful shallow dive.

Satan watched in astonishment, then looked at the tree she'd been sitting under. She reached up to the long limb and wrapped her arms around it, pulling her feet to it like a monkey and yanking herself up. She stood on the limb, holding her hands behind her against the trunk.

"Oi, Satan, don't do it! The lake's sort of shallow!"

Satan smiled at Bunbun, then took a running leap off the tree, squeezing herself into a cannonball and sailing far, far out. She landed and went under. The water was as cool and refreshing as a gin and tonic in August. She let out her breath and let herself sink to the bottom.

When she resurfaced, Lynn gave her an impressed whistle and Bunbun was looking at her worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Satan spit water in a big fat stream onto Bunbun's face. Bunbun's eyes widened for a second, then she splashed her back, getting Satan right in the nostrils. Satan let out a loud "Ha!"

"You scared the hell out of me!" Bunbun squealed.

"Ha ha ha." Satan looked over Bunbun's shoulder at Lynn.

He lounged back in the water, his perfect features dripping with clear water. "_That_ was a dive, Honey. We have more fun then royalty, neh?"

Bunbun looked confused, but Satan burst out in laughter. It felt good to have her own little joke with Lynn. But she still felt small, the way he looked at her. She turned to Bunbun with a forced grin. "He's saying you have a horrible dive."

Bunbun glared behind her at Lynn, then looked at the water. "There's probably tons of snakes in here. I think I'm gonna get out." As she turn to head to shore, Lynn tackled her waist.

They both went tumbling down, laughing, sending glossy rings rippling across the lake.

And once again, Satan felt isolated.

::::::::

**Review~**


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